


Chaos Theory

by Moczo



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, Romance, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-09-21 14:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 167,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17045609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moczo/pseuds/Moczo
Summary: Sometimes, the tiniest of changes can have the greatest impact on the world. One chance encounter goes in a new direction, and the course of the Holy Grail War is irrevocably changed...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Second big story to be moved over from FF.net; this one might get some minor rewrites as I post the chapters, since there's a few scenes in there I do regret in hindsight, but for the most part it's another straight port. One or two chapters a week, I think, until it's happy and healthy in its new home.

**Prologue:**

_You would be shocked how little difference there actually is between most alternate universes._

_Oh, granted, there's always going to be the odd one out. Well… actually, there are an infinite number of odd ones out. You see, the nature of the multiverse is that it's not actually 'multi' so much as 'omni'. Everything that could have possibly happened has happened, and more than that, it has happened an infinite number of times across an infinite number of universes. Therefore it is impossible for any universe to truly be odd, because any given universe is nothing more or less than the sum total of an infinite number of things happening or not happening in combination, and there will be another universe where the exact opposite things happened, and between them will be universes with all of those (again, infinite) things happening in wildly different or nearly identical combinations. And each of those will have an opposite too. And then there are the ones where nothing happened, ever, and the worlds where things have stopped happening. And there are an infinite number of those as well, many of them with subtly different definitions of 'nothing' happening, and sometime the nothing from one leaks into another and becomes something there because that universe has different rules of nothing, so what doesn't exist in one universe not only exists in another, it always has existed and always will exist, while in yet another universe it will never haven't not existed._

_And just think: if you were one of my apprentices, I'd be quizzing you on this later. And people wonder why they traditionally don't last long._

_In any event, my point was, there are many, many alternate worlds. And many of them are strange indeed. I've seen worlds where life on Earth took vastly different paths; a landscape made up of monumental crystalline mountains constantly wreathed in emerald lightning, populated by formless energy creatures that fed on magnetic charges. I've seen worlds where humanity evolved more quickly; a race of psychics and superhumans who make our greatest achievements look as transient and meaningless as children's sandcastles... and who tear their world apart in wars the scale of which we cannot even imagine. Worlds where man never evolved at all, leaving Gaia wild, cruel, and untamed… but far more beautiful and vibrant, in her own harsh way._

_I once saw a world of nothing but shrimp. I tired of that one quickly._

_But a surprising number of worlds are nothing like that at all. They're just… exactly what you know. One little difference, maybe two. One person's life is changed, and that's a whole different world. Even though only a select few people are affected, it's still a world all its own._

_And sometimes, that rarest of rarities… sometimes, that one little change is just the first few rocks that signal an avalanche, and by the end, the world that used to be so much like your own isn't even recognizable. They say that a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world, if it hits the air currents just right. They're not wrong. Sometimes, it doesn't even take that much._

_And sometimes not._

_And sometimes both. Or neither. Or all of the above, repeating infinitely in a cascade of possible and impossible actions and reactions across all of time and space._

_Isn't magic fun?_

**- _An Excerpt From the Memoirs of Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. If you found parts of it confusing, that's probably for the best_.**

**(*)**

Events were unfolding. Just as they always had, just as they would on a thousand, thousand other worlds exactly like this one.

The false priest wiped the last flecks of dried blood from his knife in satisfaction. He had derived, he admitted, a not-inconsiderable amount of amusement from what he'd done to the Irishwoman; befriended her, earned her trust, led her in her career and built her to her greatest moment of personal triumph… and taken it all from her with a single thrust of a blade. Along with her arm, shortly afterward and with the aid of a decent bone saw. The shock and despair in her eyes had been nothing short of intoxicating.

He'd left her just barely alive. Intentionally. It was more amusing to think of her slowly wasting away in the abandoned building he'd deposited her in, far from help, agonizing over everything he'd taken from her as she died. Her life had been passionate and driven, her death should be no less intense. It was the greatest gift she could be given, and the greatest curse. He appreciated the duality of it all.

And of course, the personal amusement afforded by this action was only the tip of the iceberg. One person really wasn't enough to be more than an appetizer, but an interesting game was about to begin, and to truly exercise his interests and enjoy it to the fullest possible extent, he needed pieces on the chessboard. Now, with the harvesting of Bazett Fraga McRemitz's arm and by extension her contract and Command Seals, Kirei Kotomine had acquired a very excellent game piece indeed. The Masters were gathering, and he had unprecedented freedom to observe and manipulate to ensure the war went to his liking. Honestly, the situation was just about perfect.

In the shadows of the Church, Servant Lancer waited impatiently. He wasn't terribly happy with his new Master… the last had been a cute, spirited girl with much more likable personality, and he would have enjoyed this War quite a bit with her by his side. Just his bad luck that she was a crappy judge of character to balance out her good qualities. But he was willing, for the moment, to tolerate the annoying fake priest if it led to getting a chance to actually taste some of this legendary combat he kept hearing about.

Oh, man, that priest had _better_ hook him up with some decent fights, or he would be _so_ pissed.

(*)

Far beneath them both, the Golden King stretched and yawned. As so often happened these days, he was rather bored.

He wasn't terribly interested in the War, frankly… there was some value to be had from the prize, he supposed, but it wasn't as though it would be difficult to take it any time he wanted. Most likely he would simply let it all play out unless he saw something interesting to do in the meantime. Some of the other Servants might be fun, if he got too bored… not enough to actually be a threat, of course, but potentially one might emerge that would force him to exert some effort. The Lancer that Kotomine had stolen was nothing worth noticing, but maybe the others would be higher quality… another scion of the gods, perhaps, like that insane Conqueror King from the last war. Now _he_ had been interesting! Not many men were worth fighting, but that one had been something else. But beyond the slim hope that another like him would emerge, there wasn't much else to look forward to.

He supposed that one girl, the one with the strange body and the broken eyes, could be a diversion. She was a nasty, hungry abomination, and one he'd marked as a most likely requiring extermination at some point in the future. In a rare moment of kindness, he'd told her to commit suicide; it was a practical solution, and if she really was what he _thought_ she was, she'd probably be happier just skipping onto reincarnation early instead of completing her impending transformation. He considered hunting her down right now, just to see if she'd listened or not, and killing her with his own two hands if she'd had the temerity to assume that she had any right to ignore even his most vague of whims. But to be honest, he didn't really think it was worth the energy. And giving her power some time to mature and twist itself further would likely make it vaguely more interesting if he had to destroy her later.

… … … oh, who was he fooling? All of this was nothing but killing time until _she_ appeared.

The silver knight who'd caught his eye like few other women could. She would appear again, he could feel it in his blood. She sought the Grail with a passion he found utterly irresistible, and if the Grail appeared, that woman would defy every law of reality, time, and space in her attempts to seize it. She would come to the Holy Grail, she would come to him, and he would be waiting for her, to complete what he'd started all those years ago. To finally break that indomitable will, to burn that passion out of her and make her his own, like she was always destined to be.

Yes, yes, _that_ was something to hope for. That woman would be his greatest treasure yet, the crown jewel of his unmatched collection.

The last ten years of tedium would be entirely worth it for that single, perfect moment when the defiance finally left those beautiful eyes.

(*)

The Witch resisted the urge to throw her head back and laugh out loud. The raw power flooding through her was delicious, a rush like no other, and the sensations were definitely going to her head. More came in with each second, drawn from the hapless sacrifices who dwelt in the shadow of her mountain temple. More energy than a dozen Servants could ever need, enough to power her spells for a lifetime. She'd need all of it and more to deal with the foes she had to face, of course, but the fact that the power she had already amassed was not sufficient did not make it any less exhilarating to possess.

This land, at the heart of the sacred mountain, was perfect for her purposes. Only one way in or out, easily defended by the talented guard dog she had conjured. A spiritually rich land that could easily hold her territory as a Magus. The focal point of a leyline that allowed her to touch the entire city without ever leaving her room, an effectively limitless source of power. The war had not yet even begun, and with a single stroke she had claimed a great advantage by positioning her Temple in this holy land that could essentially be called the ideal base of operations.

Yes, Servant Caster thought, this Holy Grail War wasn't such a big problem, if you just took the time to think it through. And when the Holy Grail was hers…

She cast a glance at Kuzuki Souichirou, her latest Master and lover, sitting cross-legged in the corner of her chambers, his expression unreadable. She would take her time seizing the Grail, and savor her time with him. And when it was finally hers, well… she knew better than to make childish wishes. But if it was possible that this prize could truly grant her a second life… if there was even a chance, to finally have that happiness she had been so thoroughly denied during her life...

For a thing of infinite power that could grant any wish at all, surely a second lifetime to spend with this man was simple enough to give?

(*)

The magus smiled at the fruits of her labor. The chosen hour was rapidly approaching, when she would draw her card and follow in her father's esteemed footsteps. All the rituals were prepared to textbook precision, her power was at its peak, and she was deservedly confident in her abilities. Really, it could be said to be that most elusive of creatures, a Perfect Situation.

This would be her time to shine, she knew. When the final spells were cast, the ultimate swordsman would be in front of her, her shining key to victory. In one fell swoop, she would not only follow her father's path, but travel further along it than he ever had. The Tohsaka family would be the ones to finally claim the Holy Grail, and it would all begin with her flawless summoning of Servant Saber.

Poor thing. It really was a shame about that pendant, wasn't it?

(*)

You could hardly call it a person anymore.

A person didn't wither in the sunlight. A person didn't hide from the world in basement crypts like some kind of phantom haunting his own home. A person didn't decay as he walked, his body made up of stolen flesh held together around a decrepit soul by the action of worms that smelled of old blood and rotten meat.

But mostly, a 'person' was capable of holding some, meaningful connection to another. And it had been many years since Zouken Matou had done anything of the sort.

He had eyes, literal and figurative, throughout the city of Fuyuki. A poor match for his magic it might be, but he had dwelt in this land for many years and his power was not to be trifled with here, in the heart of his territory. He saw everything.

The Witch at Ryudou Temple was already at work gathering souls, and she had summoned a Servant of her own.

The false priest acting as Overseer had two Servants of his own to work with, and to make matters worse, he had nothing but contempt for Zouken, personally.

The Grail prepared by the Einzbern family was even more chaotic than usual this time around, and the Servant they had assigned to protect it was one of the top contenders in the War. Getting to it would be difficult.

In all honesty, he seriously considered just waiting for the next War. This one had come much more quickly than expected, and perhaps the next would follow suit. Each passing year made it harder to focus, but if he passed into hibernation for most of it, lasting out the years should be quite possible. Really, the situation was about as horrible as it could be for his plans.

But…

That thing was just about perfect. The personality had some flaws to work out, but in terms of function he couldn't have asked for better.

He'd had it call up a Servant and gave control over to Shinji; he didn't expect much from the boy, but risking the material in direct combat as a Master would be a waste and Zouken hadn't yet conceived of a way to properly utilize it. But things were changing, weren't they? Subtle changes over the last few years, more pronounced over the last few days... something had changed in its existence outside the manor.

Something was giving it just a _tiny_ hint of hope.

Zouken smiled, something black and chitinous crawling out from between his teeth before burrowing back into the wrinkled flesh of his neck. Hope was weakness he could exploit. He would begin paying more attention to the thing, observe its interactions outside his home, and determine what had happened to bring about this unforeseen change in the previously unchangeable core of the thing. A few days of observation and then, once a weakness had been determined, perhaps it could finally be made pliable and be put to real use. And if that happened, well... it might be time to get more directly involved in this Holy Grail War.

Elsewhere in the darkened manor, the 'material' sat in her room. Well, 'room' was not the best word for it. 'Cell' would have been more accurate. 'Pit' would have been even closer. This was not where she slept, after all, but where she came for training.

'Training', what a joke. 'Training' was an even worse word for what went on in this place than 'room' was to describe this dank, light-less Hell...

Worms and insects swarmed over, around, and _through_ her prone body as she lay on the cold stone floor, staring at the ceiling in silence.

And why shouldn't she be silent? This was hardly a new experience for her. It had been years since something like this was enough to provoke a real reaction.

It had been years since _anything_ was enough to make her cry.

(*)

Think of the people above, if you will. Consider the power gathered among them, the skill and intelligence. Enough to do some real good in this world, don't you think? A real shame it was all focused inexorably on killing one another, but that's how such things often turn out.

But more than that, think of the plans. Such _big_ plans, every one of them. And so confident! The word 'perfect' seemed to come up a lot.

The thing about perfection, real perfection, is that it sort of speaks for itself. A truly immaculate situation would not need to be pointed out; it would be obviously perfect to anyone looking at it. The architect of a truly perfect plan would not need to reassure themselves as to its perfection, because it would be clear immediately that it could not possibly go wrong.

The main point of this lecture, really, is that one would think a group of such powerful, intelligent people would really know how to avoid making themselves look so stupid. Because every single one of those utterly perfect plans was going to fail. Some miserably, some slightly, but not one of them would be moving completely according to the planner's designs.

Because of some 'Perfect Materials' that had a little more free will than Zouken Matou expected.

Because of a ten-going-on-twenty chaotic little white-haired girl who decided she really didn't care all that much about the glory of the Einzbern family.

Why, it wouldn't be a terrible stretch to say that a few of the above would be royally screwing over each _other_ , as well.

But mostly? The assorted plans at play here would be going very, very wrong due to the actions of a no-name, no-count, utterly talentless Magus by the name of Shirou Emiya. He had no magic worth mentioning, no combat experience of note, and no plan _for_ or knowledge _of_ the War he was about to enter. He did, however, have one trait that had derailed a countless number of such grand, far-reaching schemes throughout history.

You see, he really, really wanted to be a hero.


	2. Moonlight

Illyasviel von Einzbern walked through the unfamiliar streets without a hint of fear.

She had no reason to fear anything or anyone, for the Black Giant walked beside her. Unseen, perhaps, but there nonetheless, an implacable power waiting only to be unleashed upon the target of her choice. So long as he was by her side, she could not be harmed. And that meant she could not be harmed ever, because he would never leave her side, never refuse her anything within his power to give. Her Berserker would always be there for her, and only for her.

Unlike so many others, he would never disappoint her.

The Princess had a mission here. She was to claim the Holy Grail. It was hers, grandpapa had said. It was all of theirs, their great family's treasure by right. Illyasviel would take the destroyer they had summoned to the Holy Land, and she would claim the prize their family had sought for so long. For the glory of Einzbern, she would triumph.

Silly. As if she cared about the glory of Einzbern when she finally had so much freedom! Finally, she was out of the castle, finally she was out in the world; and not the frozen forests in the German countryside, full of wolves and worse, a shining, vibrant city unlike anywhere she'd ever seen. There were so many things to see and do, and despite Sella and Leysritt's whining that she should stay in the Castle when not hunting the other Masters, she planned to see and do as many of them as she could over the course of this War. And one boy to kill, of course, but in all honesty that was going to be so simple that there wasn't much reason to be worried about it. She was looking forward to it, of course… to meeting the boy that Kiritsugu had abandoned her for. Finding out what he was like. And then killing him, horribly. Not right away, no... she had ten years of frustration, confusion, and bitterness to take out on him first. She couldn't pay Kiritsugu back for throwing her away like trash, not anymore, but she could take it out on the boy he'd used to replace her. Repeatedly, for several weeks. With power tools.

Hmm, speaking of the Boy... you know, she'd never even seen him in person? Just pictures one of grandpapa's agents had acquired as part of his efforts to motivate Ilya for the coming war. She actually knew almost nothing about him.

He hadn't summoned a Servant yet, she was certain of that. She had no doubt he would be the seventh Master; the world simply wouldn't be fun if he wasn't. But the last card had not yet been drawn, and so she didn't want to kill him. It would be far, far more entertaining to kill him when it became part of the War-game. Then she could take her revenge and play at the same time! And of course, she was a noble girl. It was only proper of her to let the boy arm himself before she destroyed him, wasn't it? She must take care to look after the peasants, after all. Yes, there was definitely something to be said for letting him have a fighting chance.

She considered Berserker.

Well, all right, he wouldn't have a real fighting chance, but at least the appearance of one. He'd be able to struggle a bit before the end, and that was really the best he could hope for.

Still, just because she wasn't going to kill him yet didn't mean she couldn't play a bit. Put a touch of fear into him, let him know she was on the hunt. He lived around here, didn't he? She had just been wandering aimlessly, taking in the sights for the first time, but perhaps her subconscious had led her to the neighborhood she'd tracked Kiritsugu's former home to. The boy lived around here; she could at least go take a look, see Kiritsugu's son with her own two eyes. Yes, see him but not hurt him... just hold back, and let her hunger for the moment of his punishment build and build to a crescendo. The anticipation would make it taste sweeter when the time finally came.

Skipping cheerfully along, the little princess went off to find her prey.

(*)

Shirou Emiya had a lot on his mind, as he walked home from work that night.

Okay, actually, not a lot. Mostly Sakura, honestly, the underclassman who had inserted herself so seamlessly into his life over the last few years that he didn't even have to try anymore to think of her as family. But despite being only one thing, she was a big enough thing to take up most of his mind.

It started with a simple thought… there had been some serious crimes in Miyama City, lately. Was it safe to let her walk home by herself at night anymore?

But that led to thoughts of walking her home, which led to thoughts of her in general, which led to the reminder that he just… honestly wasn't sure about anything concerning that girl anymore. For starters, even he had started to notice that something was wrong. She just seemed… a little bit off in everything she did recently. Not much; so little he probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't known her for so long. But it was still enough that he was beginning to worry about her. Well, more than he usually worried about everyone, anyway.

And in more general terms, she was really starting to get pretty, which made him kind of nervous...

He shook his head to dislodge that thought. Sakura was Sakura. It wouldn't do to let his hormones ruin one of the handful of genuine friendships he actually had. She was family, and you don't do that to…

… _Family._

The moonlight reflected of the odd white hair of the girl as she walked past him, creating a soft, otherworldly glow around her.

The world froze.

He wasn't sure why. He knew he'd never seen her before. There was no real reason to notice her, other than her albino features, and that really didn't explain why he was staring so much. There was just a strange pressure about the girl that drew his attention, like he was looking at a fairy or some other creature that wasn't really part of his world...

She didn't look at him, but he could still see the smile on her tiny face in the moonlight. "You'll die if you don't summon it soon, onii-chan," she said with a giggle, her tone not making it clear if she was talking to him or just speaking to the night air.

Shirou stopped, and watched the girl stroll past. She… something about her just said 'do not follow me' to his mind. Like he was risking his life by approaching her. But…

Sometimes, it's the tiniest little things that can change the world.

Shirou sprinted after the departing girl, shouting, "Wait, wait up a second!"

The girl, her eyes wide with more shock than should probably have been in them, turned to face him. "Um... huh?" She said, eloquently.

Shirou knelt down so that he could look her in the eyes, and put on his warmest smile. Her clothes looked very well made, so best to assume she had money and behave with proper respect; though really, he would have anyway. Even if she wasn't actually upper-class, it was the rare little girl who wouldn't get a small thrill out of being talked to like she was a Lady. "Hello, ojou-chan. Are you all alone?"

Ilya blinked a few times in surprised confusion. "Er… hello?" This is all wrong. What was he doing? She hadn't been planning to talk to him now. And he certainly wasn't supposed to be smiling. She hadn't even bothered to hide her intent to kill! This had been a warning, a declaration of war, so why was he acting like he was happy to meet her? Had… wait, had Kiritsugu never told him about her? He didn't… he didn't think she was a threat because he didn't recognize her? He didn't even have the good grace to know what he'd taken from her? Her anger rising, she considered ordering Berserker to materialize and smash the boy to paste, right here and now.

Anger which dissolved rapidly as her train of thought stopped dead with just one single motion from the boy. He reached his hand out and patted her on the head. The simple display of affection left Ilya openly stunned. He was not supposed to be nice to her. Most people in her (very limited) experience were not, and she'd had every reason to believe he would be far worse than the others.

This really, really wasn't going how she'd planned.

Shirou, oblivious, just kept smiling. "Wow, what pretty hair! And those clothes are so nice... you really look like a princess, you know that?"

_He thinks I'm pretty... he likes the hair I got from mama_... Ilya thought, the little girl in her rising to the top in irrational glee at the praise to overpower the cynical teen woman trying her hardest to distrust him. She liked people who were nice to her. She wasn't supposed to like him, but he was being nice and... ugh, this was all wrong! She tried to find her anger again, contemplated ordering Berserker to kill just to make herself less confused...

"But you know, there's been a lot of dangerous people and accidents around at night, lately. It's not safe for a cute little girl to be walking alone at this hour. Would you like me to walk you home?" the boy asked.

_Wait, what_? Ilya thought, her anger totally derailed once again. Why was he being so consistently nice? He wasn't supposed to be nice to her. He was supposed to be cold, and uncaring, and ruthless. But… well… even disregarding the fact that she was not, in fact, alone, and was probably the safest person in this city, he was still showing concern. He was being nicer to her than most of her own family, and they'd only just met! This wasn't _fair_!

_Time to get things back on track. Don't forget who he really is_. "I…" she began, preparing to challenge this, punch the holes needed to see through the deception.

"Oh… hehehe…" The boy said, laughing in a somewhat embarrassed manner. "I guess that I'm a stranger to you, aren't I? I got so caught up in the moment I forgot that for all you know, I'm the dangerous one. Still, I'd feel bad about leaving you all alone here, so how's this?" He reached into his pockets, and fished out some coins and a few slips of paper. "Here's a little money… there's a gas station straight down the block, this way. There's enough here to use the payphone to call someone to pick you up and buy yourself a little snack while you wait. Would you like me to walk you at least that far? I'd prefer to make sure you're safe, but I'll leave if you want me to."

Dammit.

_What is he… how should I... Why does he keep **smiling**_? Ilya thought in desperation and annoyance, her mind overturned for the tenth time in half that many minutes. _Stop it! Stop being nice! I… I'm going to kill you, so if you don't stop it will be…!_

Shirou Emiya stood up, and offered his hand to Ilyasviel von Einzbern. "Well…?" He said

And, with a slight blush and against her own better judgment, Ilya placed her small hand in his and said, "Y-you can escort me to this place you mentioned. I'll trust you... just this once."

Shirou's smile widened, making that 'slight blush' grow a little bit deeper. "I would be honored," He said warmly.

And though neither of them knew it at the time, they had just ensured that the plans of basically every single person in the conflict to come were going to go completely wrong. Except Rin. Her plans went wrong just fine without any outside help.

(*)

Events unfold, just as they always have...

The magus stood atop the school, and worried.

She hadn't gotten Saber, so things were not as perfect as she'd planned. But still, she had a lot to be proud of; there were only seven cards, and she'd drawn one. Rin Tohsaka was a true Master.

Granted, the card she'd drawn was apparently the _jerk_ card, because the urge to beat the smug out of her new Servant had arisen more than once. Still, Archer was her Servant, and that's what counted.

But now this had happened to ruin her already pretty fragile good mood. It had to be one of the other Masters; only a Servant could have started something like this without her noticing. And it had to be someone who knew her, else they wouldn't have chosen her school, out of every public location in Fuyuki, as a target for one of the most vile magics she'd ever seen. It was a boundary field, and a thoroughly nasty one; a twisted, consuming spell field that would digest everyone caught inside it, melt them down into blood and spirit to be consumed like they were food instead of people, instead of her friends and classmates. Someone… some pestilential little _insect_ had dared to place a disgusting thing like this at her school, her territory.

She was not amused, and she would make sure that the perpetrator knew this. She'd make sure he knew it slowly and horribly. It was possible that a variety of bladed instruments would come into play for this instruction.

She prepared to draw the power from the sigil she'd found; it was ultimately futile, but it should by some time in preventing the boundary field from activating. Not much, but every second helped if It gave her a shot at finding her Mystery Master and driving a knife into his spine before the field could activate. She laid her palm on the place where the magic felt thickest…

"What, you're going to erase it? What a waste," Said a voice even more cheerfully insolent than Archer's.

The blue knight standing on the water tower spoke to her for a short while, like they were old friends.

And then he tried to kill her, and things got a bit hectic. Still, it was probably for the best; she'd been hoping to get a picture of Archer's combat utility. And her new Servant did not disappoint. She didn't understand how... she couldn't properly comprehend melee combat between two such superhuman creatures, but Archer was able to match Lancer blow-for-blow, despite his class. Surely an Archer should have fought from a distance, with missile weapons, but her Servant had drawn twin swords, unlike those in any legend she had ever heard of. And he had faced the spearman alone, and he had not been defeated.

Perhaps her card draw had been better than she'd thought.

The red knight and the blue knight clashed, again and again. Lancer was clearly the stronger and faster, yet no matter how furiously he attacked, Archer batted aside the lightning-fast thrusts. His weapons, the white sword that reflected the moon and the black sword that devoured it, were shattered many times and yet always intact...

Rin Tohsaka stood transfixed by this, her first battle in the Holy Grail War. Magus or no, she had not seen so many amazing things that she could be anything other than stunned by the prospect of two Epic Spirits, genuine heroes, dueling before her very eyes.

And so she didn't notice the boy watching from the shadows until long after she should have...

(*)

_The boy was hurled into the shed with bruising force._

_He had already died once this night, pierced through the heart by that blood-red lance. He did not wish to die again, especially not in the exact same way. But it was beginning to seriously look like the choice was going to be taken out of his hands._

_He didn't want to die._

_He didn't want to die._

_He hadn't saved anyone, not one single person, and he didn't want to die yet…!_

_The blue spearman made the fatal thrust._

_Light and wind filled the small shed, and the lance was repelled in a crashing of metal against metal. With a curse, the spearman leapt backwards out of the shed._

_The boy looked up at her. The impossibly beautiful silver knight, who stood framed in the light of the moon shining in through the open door…_

_"I ask of you," Servant Saber said, "Are you my Master?"_

_Sometimes, a tiny little event can change the world._

_But some destinies are just meant to be, no matter what changes around them._

_The Seven cards have been dealt, and the Masters are gathered. Let's draw the blade of fate, and swing it down one more time._

_Welcome to the Holy Grail War._


	3. Ripples

Shirou Emiya was a confused, confused boy.

A day and a lifetime ago, he'd been wondering if he should be letting Sakura walk home alone (he had decided 'no', by the way, and he was glad of it. When he'd actually walked her home, he'd found that strange foreigners were hanging around her house lately, and then when he'd stopped by later to check in her grandfather had decided it was fun to creep him the hell out. Forget not walking home alone, he was considering not letting Sakura walk home at _all_. She could live in the guest house and stay far away from her stalkers and bizarre grandparents). Now?

He'd been stabbed through the heart by a large scary blue man with a spear. He had, somehow, survived this. How he had not died, he had no idea; all he knew for certain was that the scary man had decided to follow him home and kill him again to see if it stuck this time. He had argued the point… poorly, judging by the ease with which the superhuman individual had tossed him around his home like a ragdoll. He'd ended up kicked through the door of his workshop (or what would have been his workshop if he'd been a Magus worth mentioning), and had basically given up hope. He'd desperately prayed from something, anything… some way to survive, some way to insure his dream was not snuffed out before he even got the chance to start on it. And then, when he was at the lowest of low points with no way out and no shot at survival… that's when she'd made her appearance.

Impossibly beautiful. Shining in the moonlight, she'd called herself 'Saber'. She'd called him 'Master'. And she had saved his life, there was no denying that. She had faced the spearman and driven him off, when Shirou himself had been helpless to do anything but be batted around like a mouse in the paws of a lion. She was, like the knight in blue, a being of power; clearly more than human. More than that, though, while she was easily just as amazing as the superhuman spearman, unlike him she had a gentle beauty and dignity to match her obvious power. As annoyed as the young would-be-hero would have normally been by needing someone else to save him, Shirou was frankly too awed by her to care overmuch... even as she insisted on saying things he didn't understand and taking actions without listening to a word he said. She was simply amazing.

So he wished he'd had something other than an old raincoat to throw over her head so she wouldn't stand out.

It was Rin Tohsaka's fault, really. She and her own… Servant? They kept calling them 'Servants'… had been near his house, and Saber had, in another moment of 'not listening or explaining', attacked them.

Shirou had stopped her. Somehow, he wasn't quite sure… all he knew is that he desperately wanted her to stop, and when he'd shouted the command one of the strange new markings on his hand had vanished. He couldn't say why that happened (other than 'because it's magic'), he was just glad that it had. He couldn't be a very good hero if he let someone who called him Master walk around killing passerby without even explaining what the Hell was going on. Particularly when the passerby turned out to be the most popular girl at his school as well as... well, he didn't want to call her his _crush_ , but...

In any case, Tohsaka had expressed gratitude at him preventing her from being skewered, and had entered his home. She fixed some windows, and expressed shock that he was too talentless to do the same. Nor was that the only thing he was mocked for during the course of their conversation.

He was beginning to get the impression that the fact she was a great Magus who wandered around at night in the presence of a superhuman killing machine was not the only thing about Tohsaka that she didn't share with the people at school. The sheer wickedness was also new.

Still, she was helpful. Besides repairing his window, she had outlined the most basic of basics of the ritual called the 'Holy Grail War', and given him a brief overview of exactly how much trouble he was in, which was 'a lot'. And then, as her very last favor, she promised to take him to someone who could explain the rest and let him decide just what he would do next.

However, she also said it would be safest to bring Saber with him. And unfortunately, Saber's otherworldly presence wasn't much help at blending in. His ineptitude as a Master apparently meant she couldn't turn into a spirit, like Tohsaka's Servant, so she'd need to walk, and tromping around downtown in plate steel would not be inconspicuous. Since she refused outright to remove her armor, draping a rain coat over her was the best he could do. It wasn't even a nice rain coat, unfortunately; he'd been using it as a bike cover. It was just that it was the only thing he'd had that would fit over the armor, and so they'd had to make do. Saber was hard to read, but even Shirou could tell she was not amused.

Still, at least it was marginally better than letting her out in full armor. Granted, he wasn't exactly sure how much better, because there was nobody on the streets to watch them, but still...

(*)

Somebody stood on the streets, watching them.

Ilya watched as the Tohsaka Heir… Rin was her name? Yes, it was Rin… and the boy walked in the direction of the overseer's church, the newly summoned Servant in tow. Ilya vaguely wondered why they didn't just have the Servant go into its Astral form, like Rin's Archer or her Berserker. Could the boy really be that talentless? He was supposed to be Kiritsugu's heir, surely he must be special in _some_ way?

He _was_ nice, though. She hadn't been expecting that. Ilya had not experienced a great deal of warmth in her life, and she, well… she liked him. He was kind, and gentle, and he'd told her she was pretty.

_I should kill him_. She thought.

It had all probably been an act. He was trying to confuse her, or… it wasn't like she had any proof he was actually like he said he was! Yes, now that she'd had some time to ponder things, it was most likely that he was just trying to throw her off her guard before the War. Kiritsugu had been like that too; he'd acted nice when he was around her, and then he'd left and never come back. The boy was probably just doing that.

_But he smiled at me… nobody at home does that unless they want something, but he never asked for a thing..._

As if sensing her discomfort, she felt Berserker's questioning in her mind. Not a thought, he wasn't really able to do that; what came through their connection was more like an impulse. But at the least it was an impulse that was simple to put into words.

**_Kill?_ **

Never let it be said that Berserker needed speech or even sanity to get his point across. She supposed it helped that he only ever had one point to make.

Although she couldn't see him in his astral form, she could picture the black giant tensing to pounce in her mind, the impossible muscles corded in preparation. With one word from her, he would return to the physical world and slaughter anyone, destroy anything she commanded him to. It was all he could do, and he did it well.

"No." Ilya said. "Not yet. We should… we should wait until he's confirmed by the overseer. When he's a real Master, that's when we move. We'll kill them both, all right? We will."

Truthfully, there was no need to justify herself. Berserker continued to follow her in silence, just like always, no matter what she said.

But then, she hadn't really been trying to convince _him_ anyway.

(*)

Shirou did not like the priest.

This wasn't exactly a leap of logic; even from the few minutes Shirou had spent in his presence, it had become obvious to him that Kirei Kotomine seemed to take some kind of deep, personal joy in irritating everyone around him. But Shirou found him worse than most. Even more than Rin, who had spent years learning how to be annoyed at Kirei. Shirou was annoyed at Kirei on an honor student level.

It wasn't just the aura of smugness that seemed to permeate him, the air of 'I know all sorts of things you don't know, ha ha, maybe I will tell you some but not all of them because if you knew them all I couldn't look down on you'.

It was that some of those things he knew but wouldn't quite say hit far, far too close to home.

_You can even heal those invisible burns_... How had he known about Shirou's connection to that disaster?

_I do not think a Magus exists that would waste a Command Spell that allows them to use such powerful magic... if there were such a magus, he would not just be an amateur, but a coward..._ Was it that obvious he didn't want to fight? It wasn't like not wanting to kill people made him a coward, in his own opinion, but he really hated the thought that the priest could read him so easily.

_Rejoice, boy. Your wish will finally come true_... No... no that was just wrong. Of course he wanted to save people, but he'd never wish for them to be in danger first! It wasn't the same thing. It wasn't.

It was really like he had been reading Shirou's mind, throughout much of the conversation. He repeatedly said things that struck more than they should, things that should not have been obvious to a casual observer. Shirou had been half-glad to accept his role as a Master just as a way to get out of that church, away from Kotomine's far-too-knowing smirk and simple yet piercing remarks.

Still, if he had been trying to provoke Shirou into fighting, he'd succeeded. Shirou Emiya left the Kotomine Church the Seventh Master in intent as well as took the news well, in a quiet sort of way. Rin's Archer was less entertained by the notion that they weren't going to be killing the rookie immediately, but Rin loudly put that idea down. Apparently she couldn't fight someone she felt she owed a debt to, much to her Servant's chagrin. Oh, and she blushed and freaked out briefly over Archer suggesting she had a 'special' reason for being kind to Shirou.

Shirou was beginning to get the impression that Tohsaka might actually be kinda weird.

Still, she was awfully friendly for someone who claimed she was only being nice so she wouldn't feel bad when she murdered him later, so when she offered to walk part-way home with Saber and him, he fell in behind her almost automatically.

(*)

_When he's a real Master, that's when we move._ That's what she'd said to Berserker, and she never lied. Ilya had said that she would kill the boy, now that he was a Master. She could eliminate him and Rin, all in a single swift strike. They were no match for Berserker, even together.

They were Masters, standing between her and the Holy Grail. She needed no other reason to kill them.

And as luck would have it, she had one anyway: he was Kiritsugu's heir, the one and only remaining path to the revenge she'd sought for half of her _life_! She had pictured his broken body as her plaything a million times in her mind. All she had to do was give the order, and it could be a reality. She could spend the rest of her life making him suffer for… for…

_It's not safe for a cute little girl to be walking alone at this hour. Would you like me to walk you home?_

This wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to go like this. He was supposed to be cold, and cruel, and turn her away, and then he was supposed to die while she watched and laughed, and… and… and…

_She_ should be the cruel one. She should kill him, right now. She would. He and Rin, the both of them had to die, _deserved_ to die for what they'd done and what they might yet do! She could do it, right now. All she had to do was give the order.

_Just say it. 'Kill them all, Berserker'! Four words and everything I've ever wanted is mine for the taking…_

"Berserker…" she said, watching as the boy and Rin began the long walk back to his home, Saber following obediently behind. "… let's…"

He'd walked her to 'safety'. He'd given her money for the phone, and bought her a little snack. He'd smiled at her, and called her hair pretty.

Just tiny, unremarkable little kindnesses, really. But, well, sometimes a little was enough.

"Let's just go home, Berserker." Ilya snapped. She knew she was hiding her discomfort with petulance, but she really didn't care. "I'm bored."

Without a word, Berserker materialized and lifted her in his arms to begin the journey home.

He never questioned her orders. Ilya liked that about him. When all her preconceived notions were turning out wrong, and her own mind and feelings were betraying her like this, Berserker's unwavering loyalty was all the more precious.

(*)

Rin Tohsaka and Shirou Emiya walked in silence, Saber a few steps behind. Archer was nowhere to be seen, but his presence seemed to hang in the air.

The two students ignored them. Neither one of them, if they were being honest, wanted to think too hard about what happened next.

It had been discussed before, in a roundabout way. Tohsaka's actions in taking him to the Church had been repaying her debt. She had no other reason to associate with him. She was expressing open eagerness for hunting the other masters down.

Tohsaka Rin was a Magus, wasn't she? The real thing. And for a Magus, even 'repaying a debt' was unusually kind-natured. There was some part of her that couldn't be called a Magus, a genuinely kind girl who'd reached out to help him. But that other part...

"We'll part here." Rin said, interrupting his reverie. She gestured to the crossroads, one path leading back the way they'd come to reach the church, the other leading further into Shinto. "I've repaid my debt, and it would be troublesome if we stay together any longer. We should part here and become enemies from tomorrow on."

It would be troublesome if we stay together. A polite way to say 'I don't want to feel any empathy for you, because I'm probably going to kill you'.

Still... could he just let it stay like that? The truth was that he'd had sort of a crush on this girl from his school for a long time now. And though he'd found out tonight that she was nothing like he'd expected her to be, well... he still honestly couldn't dislike her personality, as caustic and snarky and occasionally goofy as it was. In fact, he kind of preferred her this way, nattering with her Servant and trying in vain to reconcile her Master attitude with the softer side of her personality that had led her to do a favor for a classmate in way over his head. He didn't want to fight her.

But then, he'd signed up to do just that, hadn't he?

Still, she was, very clearly, a good person, if colder than he'd expected. Fighting her... possibly killing her? It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. "Well... even if you say that, I don't want to consider you an enemy, Tohsaka. To put it frankly, I think you're a good person, even if you try to say you're not. I really do like your personality."

It was kind of odd to watch. First Rin's eyes widened. Then her face turned red. Then she kinda looked like she'd choked on something.

Then, finally and to his dismay, she just looked angry, sighed in irritation, and began walking away from him.

"Emiya-kun." She said, without turning around. "I... appreciate that you think of me that way. I do. But to be frank, I brought you here to drill into your thick skull just how serious your situation is. This is war, and if you want to survive, you're going to have to abandon that softness and go for the throat. Even with me.

"Don't let me see you again, unless you're willing to do whatever you have to in order to survive. Because if you don't start taking this seriously, the next time we meet will be when Archer is putting an arrow between your eyes... assuming one of the other Masters doesn't end you first."

Shirou felt his stomach fall as he watched her walk away without another word. He wanted to counter her claims, talk her down... but what could he say? He had offered her an olive branch, and she had more-or-less responded by setting it on fire. As quirky as she might be, was quickly getting at least one impression about her: she got what she wanted, pursued it with drive and passion. And she wanted to win this Holy Grail War. Her kinder half had led him here, to give him a fighting chance... but that colder half to her wouldn't allow her to give him any more than that. Now he was another obstacle in the way of her own goals, and if she had to go through him...

She might. She really might.

He mused that in a perfect world, something would have happened then to drive the two of them closer together. Some sign that even though they were in a war, they didn't have to be on opposite sides. Something, anything, to show her that there was no need for the kind of coldness she was showing him. He couldn't convince her on his own, but if something could happen to show her that even an amateur like him could be of some aid to her...

The silence at the crossroads was broken only by the sound of Rin's footsteps as she walked away from him without so much as a glance back. No sign came, no great threat emerged for them to stand together against.

Rin Tohsaka walked away an enemy, and Shirou Emiya watched her go in silence.

Saber watched as well, and nodded in approval when her Master fought down his obvious urge to speak. His actions earlier, saving Rin at the cost of a Command Mantra, had left her wondering if she would need to drag him through the battles to come if she wanted to keep the two of them alive. This silence, however, spoke well of his ability to come to terms with reality to at least some degree. The War had begun, and Rin and her Archer were their enemies. There was really nothing he could do to change that fact, and he recognized this.

Perhaps there was hope for him yet.


	4. First Day, First Night

It was nearly morning by the time Shirou returned to his familiar home, Saber following closely behind him. Already the sky was beginning to brighten and the stars fade as the sun just barely began to hint at peeking over the horizon.

"Um..." Shirou said softly, looking at the girl in the armor and ugly raincoat. He'd been so pumped with adrenaline for most of the night that it hadn't really hit home until now that he wasn't really sure what to do with her. _I mean, 'save the people endangered by the War' is all well and good to say, but I know only the basics here. I don't know anything about Saber at all, or what a Servant needs to survive. I know from Tohsaka that she needs mana, but what about food, water, sleep? Oh, man, where is she going to sleep? And what will she wear? That armor's not going to cut it. And I certainly need to find someplace to hide her during the times that Fuji-nee is here..._ Oh, god, he didn't even want to think about what Taiga would say. His unofficial guardian/big sister might not have been the best adult, but she could be a surprisingly serious _teacher_ and she would not be happy to find a girl she'd never met staying over at his house unsupervised. He didn't think Sakura would be a problem, at least, but one bright spot among a sea of blackness was not a huge comfort to-

"Master?" The quiet girl asked, interrupting his reverie upon noticing that her summoner had begun to speak and then trailed off into oblivion without saying anything. "Are you, perhaps, ill? You went the night without sleep, and the weather is quite cool."

"Er, no. I was just thinking about what to do next." Shirou said in a slightly embarrassed tone. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to make you worry."

"That is perfectly all right. Strategy is important; my only complaint is that you should consult me as well, Master. We can spend a few hours now outlining a basic strategy for the early phases of the War and outlining what routes we'll patrol through the city tonight, rest through most of the day, and begin hunting the other Masters at nightfall. If you have a map of the city and nearby locations of interest, we can try to determine where other Masters have been active and..."

"Er... actually, I was more thinking things along the lines of 'would you like something to eat'?"

"Yes." Saber said, so quickly the word seemed to snap in and out of the air in an instant.

"... oh. I wasn't sure that Heroic Spirits," _She's a Heroic Spirit? Really?_ "Actually ate food or not..."

"We do." Saber said, once again far too quickly. "In fact, with you unable to transfer mana to me, food will be a good way to maintain my strength, Master. Please provide meals often."

"Heh..." Shirou said. It was harder to really tell when she was being somber and serious, but when she was like this, clearly chomping at the bit for a simple breakfast and trying to disguise it, well... she was kind of adorable. "Well then, I guess I'll get cooking. We can have that strategy meeting you mentioned over an early breakfast, how does that sound?"

"Perfectly acceptable, Master." Saber said, clearly happier than she'd been since her summoning.

"Oh, and you don't have to call me 'Master'. I mean... I saw you against Lancer, last night. I would have died, and you saved me. There's no way I could win this War without you, so look at me as your partner, all right? Call me Shirou."

Saber blinked, briefly taken aback, before smiling softly. "Very well... I like the sound of that better, yes. Shirou."

* * *

 

"We should have killed them." Archer said calmly.

"He saved my life, I saved his." Rin said stubbornly, brushing out her hair in front of the mirror in her bedroom. "We're even, now."

"So? Why exactly do we need to be even with him?" Archer asked.

"Because maybe you can just go around being in debt to people, but I can't tolerate that sort of thing." Rin said flatly. "If I'd killed him yesterday, I would have been in debt to him for the rest of my life with no way to pay it back. It would drive me crazy. Today, I owe him nothing and I can face him as a Master."

Archer sighed. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't been expecting this. He knew better than anyone how difficult Rin could be to reason with if she got weird ideas into her head. The same passion that made her excel in all aspects of her life also made her stick relentlessly with the ideas she latched onto, even when they made no sense. "I suppose you are the Master, so I'll obey you. But you'll need to be more ruthless than this if you want to win, you know."

"... I know. And if we face him again, I won't show any mercy." Rin said softly. She honestly had nothing against Emiya, really. But if he'd wanted a long, healthy life, he should have bowed out of the War when he'd had the chance. That said... "But I won't be actively hunting him down, either. I have more important concerns."

"The boundary field at the school." Archer said, anticipating her next statement.

"And the gas leaks." Rin agreed. "They're both Servants, though I don't think the same one. The 'gas leaks' haven't killed anyone yet, while that abomination at school will eat anyone inside it when it becomes active. They just seem too different to be the work of the same person."

"If I had to guess, I'd say the fake gas leaks are Caster's work. Drawing power from so many large groups of people in rapid succession would require a great magic, and a Servant qualified to be Caster could manage something along those lines." Archer said. "Though I'm not sure how. According to the news there was another last night, but I couldn't detect anything. She might be casting her spells from a distance, but in that case she shouldn't be making back enough energy to make it worthwhile. It's a puzzle." It wasn't a puzzle. Caster had constructed her Temple around the Leyline at Ryudou Temple to get around the energy cost. But he couldn't exactly let Rin know that he knew that without giving her far too many hints as to who he was; he would have to subtly direct her to that conclusion in such a manner that she believed she'd reached it on her own.

"I'm more worried about the school, anyway. People are at greater risk there. As long as Caster's Master holds their Servant back from actually killing anyone, they can be content to be Target #2."

Archer shrugged. "Whatever you decide, Master. Now, since it's Sunday, maybe you should get a little sleep? You were up all night."

"That was the idea." Rin agreed. "I'll catch a few hours of rest, and we can head out tonight to check out the situation around town, then head into school and drain however many sigils we can find for that boundary field. Tomorrow we start our hunt for the ones behind it in earnest."

"Very well. In that case, I'll go into spirit form so you can get some rest." Archer said, preparing to dematerialize.

"Archer?" Rin said, still looking into the mirror as she brushed out her long black locks in preparation for sleep.

"Yes, Rin?"

"How did you know Caster is a woman?"

Halfway through his dematerialization, Archer froze. "Excuse me?"

"You called Caster a 'she'. 'She might be casting her spells from a great distance'. What makes you think Caster is a woman? We've never encountered Caster or... her... Master." She sounded curious, but he had little doubt she was readying one of her remaining Command Seals. Just in case she didn't like his answer.

_Dammit. Perceptive little thing, isn't she_? Archer thought, a cold feeling in his gut. He hadn't meant to do that, and he couldn't exactly explain himself with, 'because I saw her the last time I went through this War. Talented Magus, very attractive woman, but unfortunately also kind of nuts'. If she knew he was someone involved in the current War, a hero from the future rather than the past, well, there were only so many people he could be. Fortunately, years of constant struggle had left him with the ability to stay cool under pressure. And perhaps more importantly, the ability to lie like a dog.

"It just slipped out that way, really. Hmmm... well, we don't know who I really am. Maybe Caster is someone I knew in my first life, and her magic sparked some subconscious reaction?" He said. There... enough truth to it that it sounded genuine without really telling Rin anything at all; Kotomine would be proud. He _had_ known Caster in his first life, it just hadn't been _Caster's_ first life. And her activities _had_ sparked a memory, it was just that memory had been freely available beforehand and just happened to be 'Oh, I guess Caster's already gotten started on her soul-stealing. I guess she was summoned pretty early compared to most of the others, so that makes sense'.

"... oh. Okay, then." Rin said, apparently satisfied with this. "Well, if that's the case then maybe actually seeing her will jog your memory even more. I would like to know what Hero I'm partnered with eventually."

Archer smiled. He really, really couldn't resist this sometimes... "All right, then, but we shouldn't be too confident. I mean, it could just as easily be that I saw how sadistic and vindictive this soul-stealing is and just subconsciously assumed that the one responsible must be a cold and bitter woman like my own Mast-"

The pain of her hairbrush smacking him between the eyes was completely worth it just to see Rin turn as red as her favorite shirt.

* * *

 

He hadn't been sure what to make for Saber, so he'd gone simple. Western food, not his specialty but it was an easy dish: toast and sunny-side up eggs, two slices and two eggs for each of them.

She had inhaled it.

So, realizing he'd underestimated how hungry she was, he'd given her half of his own breakfast while he went to make more.

It was gone before he reached the kitchen.

Taking this as a challenge, he'd gotten into the fridge and broken out the big guns. Taking out the rice, some leftover tofu, cheese, spices, and his remaining eggs, he had constructed what could technically be called an 'omelet with fried rice' and could more realistically be called a 'breakfast monster'. Forget Saber; this would feed his entire family with enough left over to make lunches for himself and two friends of his choice. Fuji-nee could not finish this. He served himself a small portion, and gave Saber the rest of his ultimate weapon.

She demolished it. There was... maybe enough left for a small meal later, but she devoured the vast majority. Shirou wondered, vaguely, if his income was in any way enough to pay for having this walking black hole in his kitchen during mealtimes. Fuji-nee could put away enough for three people, and even Sakura ate more than her appearance would suggest, but he was pretty sure Saber had them both beat by a solid margin.

"Ah..." The petite ( _Petite? Try **tiny**! Where the Hell does all the food go_?) blonde sighed, smiling in satisfaction. "Wonderful. I was hoping for a passable meal at best considering the early hour, but you are an amazing chef, Shirou. I believe these living arrangements will be quite sufficient if the food continues to be of this quality."

_The Holy Grail War is going to be murder on my bank account if she expects this much at every meal_... Shirou thought dryly. Still, no cook would be completely unhappy to have such an appreciative audience, so he merely said, "I'm glad you liked it. I'll do my best to keep living up to your standards, though I'm sure I'm no match for whatever chefs an Epic Hero must have had..."

Saber shuddered and very pointedly did not look him in the eyes. "No, no... you are better. So, so much better..." She said in a haunted tone.

After a few moments of silence, Shirou decided to break the awkward chill that had fallen over the room, as if all the life had been sucked from the air. "So... we didn't actually get any strategy work done, did we?"

Saber's eyes widened, and she... god, she blushed. Not much, but a little, and she even smiled in a slightly goofy manner. "Er... yes, well... it is difficult to think when hungry, and the food was excellent so... I may have lost track of what we were doing..."

_Adorable. She's totally adorable. This is completely unfair_. Shirou thought, feeling his own cheeks redden slightly.

"That's all right. I'm used to not sleeping much, so we can plan for little bit before I turn in. Though really... when I say 'planning' I guess I really mean that I could use a crash course on all the little details. I mean, I don't know what hero you are, what capabilities you have, why you're after the Holy Grail, who that Lancer guy really was, how to spot other Masters..."

"Senpai! Are you awake? I know it's a little early but there's a new recipe I wanted to try!" Called a familiar, cheerful voice from the entrance.

"... where we're going to put you so that Sakura doesn't freak out on seeing a girl in armor sitting in my kitchen!" Shirou said, though no longer quite so calmly.

"Intruder?" Saber questioned. Wind seemed to pick up inside the kitchen as she prepared that invisible sword she'd used against Lancer.

"No! No, not intruder, don't kill!" Shirou said in just a tiny panic. "Er... look, we can't let her see you like this. Out the window, loop west around the building, climb into the guest room. Fuji-nee sometimes leaves a spare set of clothes for when she mooches off my charity, it will be too big for you but..."

In a soft rain of silver light, Saber armor and gauntlets dissolved to leave her in only the blue dress beneath them.

"... or you could do that." The dress still did not look exactly like 'normal' clothes, it was much too elaborate, but it would be easier to explain away than full armor. Of course... "But you should still leave, since I can't really explain a girl without armor much better than one with it and she'll be here-"

_Now. Crap._

"Oh, you are up early!" Sakura said warmly, poking her head into the kitchen. The room seemed to get sunnier with her smile; Sakura Matou just had that sort of effect on the world. The younger sister of his middle-school friend, Shinji, Sakura was his kohai at school and a sort of surrogate little sister at everything else. And while he and Shinji had drifted apart, he and Sakura had only gotten closer over the years as she stopped by to help around the house on a near-daily basis. He'd never really been sure exactly what had prompted the visits to start; he'd injured himself, and she'd just started showing up, all attempts to dissuade her meeting with total failure. What mattered now was that she'd become such a staple at the Emiya house that Shirou really couldn't imagine life without her stopping by every day anymore; she was as much family as Fuji-nee at this point. "Aw, and you made breakfast already? I was looking forward... to..."

Sakura's voice trailed off as her eyes locked onto the girl in the fancy blue dress sitting at the table in front of the empty plates. Her smile disappeared. The sunniness went away. "S-senpai...?"

"Yes, Sakura?" He asked, as though nothing were odd about the situation at all. Maybe... maybe if he didn't say anything about Saber, Sakura wouldn't ask. Hey, it could happen!

"Senpai... there is a girl in the kitchen." Sakura said, softly. Her tone did not sound approving.

Oh, Hell. Shirou thought. "... er. Yes. That's true." _Smooth, Emiya. Smooth_.

"Why is she there, Senpai?"

"Well, she..."

"And why wasn't she here yesterday? I left with Fujimura-sensei fairly late in the evening. When, exactly, did she arrive, the middle of the night? Or were you out with her all night, without telling m- us?"

"Er... actually, y-"

"And does Fujimura-sensei know about this? As much as I cannot approve of this, she will disapprove even more." Sakura said firmly.

_God, she's pissed, isn't she_? Shirou thought painfully. She was far too polite and quiet to be anything but furious.

"Look, Sakura, it's not like that." He said, trying his hardest to salvage this somehow.

"Not like what, Senpai?"

"Not like whatever you're thinking!" Shirou said. "She's just a friend of Kiritsugu, that's all. She showed up last night to see him, and, well... you know. And I couldn't just leave her on her own after that!" _Come on, Saber, play along_... He thought. He'd made sure to call his dad by name, so that she could pretend to actually know him, but he couldn't be sure she'd pick up that she was supposed to in time...

Sakura did not look convinced. "She came to see him in the middle of the night?"

"I am from out of the country, as you could probably tell." Saber said calmly. "I am unused to travelling, and did not calculate my arrival time correctly. Shirou was quite helpful... I was shocked to hear of Kiritsugu's passing, and not sure where I would have stayed had he not offered me a room."

_Good job, Saber_! Shirou thought firmly.

"I... see." Sakura said. Her expression was still dark, but she seemed to have, if not agreed to Saber's presence, at least noted that she had no grounds to refuse it. "Well, I guess that... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Saber," Shirou said automatically, and immediately began kicking himself mentally. Just Saber? Really? Who would believe that was a person's name?

"... Saber?" Sakura said.

"It is a family name," Saber said in a perfect deadpan.

_We're doomed_. Shirou thought.

"... ah. Well... I... suppose I have no real cause to ask that you leave... Saber-san." Sakura said slowly.

... _really_? Shirou thought. _That's... good! That's a good thing!_

"So I'll wait here and see what Fujimura-sensei has to say. If she says that you can stay here, I guess that I can't really say anything." Sakura said.

Crap. Fuji-nee. Shirou thought blankly. He stood up.

"Shirou?" Saber asked. "What is wrong?"

"I need to make more breakfast." Shirou said. "Maybe if I distract her with food she won't think too hard."

It turned out, shortly, that food was not in fact enough to completely distract Taiga from a girl in the room, though it took her nearly seventeen minutes to notice. Luckily, however, Fuji-nee wasn't as good at arguing as Sakura, so if Sakura hadn't been able to find a real reason to deny Saber a room...

" ** _ABSOLUTELY NOOOOOOOOOOOOOT_**!" Taiga roared.

... Fuji-nee would just deny her without a reason.

It was possible that this would be a long day.

* * *

 

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

Why? Why? Why? _Why_?

The girl. The beautiful one he'd called his 'father's friend'.

Fujimura-sensei, in the end, had not turned the girl away. Sakura had never really expected her to do so, though a small part of her had hoped she would; leave it to Fujimura-sensei to base her room-and-board decisions on a _shinai duel_... of course, the same thing that made Taiga accept Saber into the household was merely one more sign to Sakura how dangerous the girl truly was.

She was lucky that Senpai had merely thought her dislike of the girl to be jealousy. The truth was, after all, worse... even if her display of swordsmanship against Taiga had not been far too skilled to be truly human, Sakura could still _taste_ the true nature of the girl. She certainly felt closer to human than the other Servant Sakura had met in person, but the aura of power would have been unmistakable even if Senpai hadn't been so foolish as to introduce her as 'Saber'.

In spite of herself, Sakura smiled fondly through her worry. _Oh, Senpai, you really do have no talent for these things at all, do you_? Sakura herself would have taken care, if she couldn't astalize the Servant as he apparently could not, to only feed her in a side-room, place some kind of visual obstacles in the path to make it appear the wing she was staying in was under renovations, and on the off-chance someone did encounter her, give her a convincing pseudonym to go by. And to be frank, that was still pretty pathetic by Magus standards; it didn't even do anything about the girl's unusual dress (She decided then to loan Saber some clothing, in an effort to keep the girl and Senpai even slightly more off-the-radar. It wasn't much, but it was the most she could do on short notice). Yet Senpai had never even thought to take such simple precautions.

She liked that. Senpai's honesty was... cute. His sincerity shone like the sun. Particularly when he was trying not to be sincere and doing so very, very badly.

Unfortunately, her brief good mood faded as she recalled what Senpai was badly lying to her _about_. A Servant. The girl with him was a Servant and that made Senpai a Master. He was involved in that awful war and he could... he...

She couldn't even bring her mind to form the grim thought, and settled for 'he was in serious danger'. He was no Magus, not like the other competitors. At the least grandfather had told her that he wouldn't be getting involved in the current war; Senpai would have _no_ chance against Zouken Matou. And her own brother was... he did not have Senpai's presence, to put it mildly. Her first impressions of Saber were limited, but she did not think Rider could beat her with Shinji in possession of her contract.

But the other Masters were monsters, enough to make even Grandfather, the most powerful and horrifying person she knew, decide to avoid getting involved.

And he'd said, almost as an afterthought, that the favorite to win this time was the Heir of Tohsaka. At the time it had only made Sakura feel slightly... off. She wasn't sure what to call the emotion, honestly. Now? It just made her feel terrified.

_Of course... why wouldn't she be the top ranked Master? She's more talented than anyone_. Sakura thought. _Of course she's going to win. And if she fights Senpai to do it..._

Sakura's training had not been traditional by any means, but she knew that Masters in the Holy Grail War were not known for showing mercy to one another.

For just the briefest of moments, something dark flashed behind the young girl's violet eyes as a tiny burst... less than a second... of something cold and vicious ran through her mind at the thought of the shining, perfect girl who she'd always watched from a distance, and who might very well be killing the man she loved. And of the polite, angelic blond Servant who had put him in a position to be hurt so in the first place...

* * *

 

In his crypt, Zouken smiled. The worms throughout the chamber increased their repulsive writhing in sensitivity to his emotions, continuing to slither towards him and burrow into his ankles and legs.

He had made the decision to become involved in the War the previous day, and immediately told Sakura the exact opposite. For all her talk of the Emiya boy's lack of skill at deception, it never occurred to her that perhaps she was also being deceived. And why would it? For starters, Zouken did not commonly lie to her: he didn't need to. Zouken forced her to do what he wanted her to do, and therefore had no reason to resort to deception. If he'd wanted her to enter the War as a Master, he could simply make her, and the fact that he had not done so was sufficient proof to her that he was honest about not getting personally involved.

Silly girl. He wondered how long it would be before she realized that she had a far, far greater destiny than to act as a mere Master. And he wondered even more how long it would be before she realized that it had been the _second_ half of their brief conversation that had actually been important. The few statements carefully calculated to drive her thoughts... and animosity... just slightly in the direction of the Tohsaka girl.

The thing about the girl was that as broken as she might seem to anyone who saw her in the midst of 'training', she really wasn't. Not deep down, not on the most fundamental level, not broken how he _needed_ her to break. As ragged and shattered as her surface personality was, there still existed some core essence that simply would not falter and would brook no intrusion into the territory of her mind and soul. While impressive, and what allowed her to withstand the training and alterations needed for her ultimate purpose, it also made her basically useless to him unless he could circumvent it in time. And unfortunately, a decade of the most heinous methods he could imagine had not pierced this final bastion of inner strength, and he could devise some truly, deeply heinous methods.

So he had tried another venue. If it would not break to external attack, make her break it herself from within.

Hope was one weakness, which the Emiya boy had so kindly instilled. Jealousy was another, which Rin Tohsaka had inspired and Zouken himself had inflamed. And now the source of the jealousy was leading her to fear for the source of the hope, that terror becoming a third weakness all of her own creation.

Not much of a reaction, really. The tiniest, most imperceptible of cracks in the armor. But he could work with that.

Now, perhaps it was time he looked up that Summoning ritual again and became directly involved in events for the first time in centuries. All Seven cards had already been pulled, of course, but there were always loopholes. He'd be sure to thank Caster later for creating such a huge one for him to exploit.

She'd be dead, so he doubted she'd appreciate the thanks, but it never hurt to be polite.

* * *

 

Shirou and Saber walked through the night, mostly in silence.

It had been a long day, but they had eventually managed to come to a reasonable term for their living arrangements. Saber would be staying in the guest room, much to her annoyance, but Sakura and especially Fuji-nee had been painfully insistent. And so Shirou found himself hosting a slumber party.

Still, at least Taiga and Sakura were apparently both deep sleepers, because according to Saber they had not reacted in the slightest when she had gotten up and left the room to find Shirou. (She was half-right... Taiga had indeed just kept on snoring. Sakura had winced and bitten her lip so hard she nearly drew blood at the implications of the Servant leaving in the middle of the night).

Shirou cast his new Servant a sideways glance. Rather than wear her armor, which she claimed she could materialize as easily as she dematerialized it, she had elected to wear the simple clothing Sakura had provided her after stating that her normal dress was too nice for everyday wear; a white sweater and a deep purple skirt that reached slightly past her knees. It was a plain, elegant outfit that suited her well, though for some reason Shirou couldn't help but think she looked better in blue.

And he also noticed that it was slightly too big for her and disguised her body almost completely. He'd noticed that Sakura didn't really seem to like Saber and wondered if perhaps this was done on purpose, but couldn't see why. If if had inconvenienced her in some way, that would be one thing. But all it did was hide her figure fr...

Oh. _Oh_.

Taking his realization of one possible reason that Sakura wouldn't want him looking at another girl's body and repressing the Hell out of it, Shirou picked up his pace slightly so Saber could not see him blush. Girls were complicated.

The duo had decided to be proactive in this Holy Grail War... Saber had informed him that nearly all of the odd incidents on the news, the gas leaks and murders alike, had most likely been the doing of other Masters. Shirou had decided that their strategy for at least the early parts of the War should be to let the other Masters deal with each other however they liked, while he and Saber focused on hunting down and defeating the ones who were hurting innocent people. He'd been expecting her to take the pragmatic approach, and encourage him to go after any Master who made themselves an easy target... but she had smiled warmly and said she approved of this tactic, and appreciated his confidence in her. He wasn't sure how she could think he _wouldn't_ have confidence in her, having seen her both drive off an enemy who had effortlessly defeated Shirou himself and shrug off a spear through the chest in literally seconds, but Shirou found her approval reassuring. Particularly in the face of the things Kotomine had said to him the previous night about his wish...

_It's nothing like that. It's not a wish for people to be in danger. It's a wish for nobody to ever be in danger. To be the kind of hero who can create a world that doesn't need heroes. Impossible in the end, but I can keep pursuing it because I know it to be a pure wish..._

_... because if it wasn't, this holy girl with a presence like wind over clear water would not have smiled at me._

"Shirou?" Saber asked curiously. "Is something wrong? Your pace has slowed considerably."

"Eh? No, just thinking."

"Focus on the task at hand, Shirou." Saber chided him. "An enemy could be around any corner. Planning ahead is good, but not if you lose sight of your surroundings in the process."

Shirou chuckled, wondering vaguely how she'd react if he told her that he had actually not been thinking about their patrol at all. Would she "Well, at this point I almost hope so. We've been walking for a long time and so far..."

A blood-curdling sound pierced the still of the night; a woman's scream, a shriek of pure terror. And then, just as suddenly as it had emerged, it stopped, cut off mid-cry.

Shirou knew it was impossible considering how far away the scream had been, but he felt he could smell blood on the air, and something else sickeningly sweet, like rotting honey...

This was... this was it. This was the moment. The moment where he either finally lived up to his ideals, or not. A real danger, a real life at stake. Someone needed his protection.

God, he was scared, but the thought that someone else might die if he did nothing was so, so much worse than the thought that he might be killed himself...!

In a flash of silver, Saber stood armed and armored. "That was very near, Shirou! Follow m-"

She blinked in confusion at the realization that Shirou had already begun sprinting in the direction of the scream, leaving her behind in a mad rush. Luckily, she was much faster than him, so it didn't matter much, but she would have to talk to him later. His tendency to run out in front of her was simply not good tactics.

* * *

 

Shinji Matou, blood heir of the most noble line of Matou magi, smiled in satisfaction and closed the book.

His Servant was a pretty thing, but he hadn't been certain she was really all they were supposed to be. Certainly, she was stronger than a normal person, but not to the degree he'd been expecting. But now, seeing her like this... dark against the darkness, her violet hair thrashing almost of its own accord as she clamped onto the dying, futilely struggling figure in her arms? She was exactly the sort of monster he'd wanted.

The girl was nothing, a nobody, a random person too stupid to stay inside at night while a murderer was roaming the streets. Young, a student most likely, though not one Shinji recognized. It made sense... kids always thought they were immortal until someone proved otherwise. Rider had stalked her for some time until she'd made the mistake of cutting through this secluded area. When the Servant had made her move, it had been both simultaneously thrilling and somehow almost too easy. The kid had time for one scream before Rider's fangs sank into her throat and began to extract blood... and with it, something far more precious.

Shinji watched in delight as the girl's struggles ceased. No, more than ceased... her eyes rolled back in her head, her arms wrapped around Rider's waist and she began to gasp softly in time to Rider's drawing on her lifeblood. He almost laughed out loud... Rider was eating her soul, and she was _enjoying_ it! How entertaining. If having this much power over the life and death of one insignificant little insect was so empowering, he could only imagine what it would be like when the surprise he had planned at his school was finally ready...

Rider dropped the woman to the ground like so much garbage and leaped backwards to stand directly in front of him. "Company, Master."

He was briefly annoyed at the interruption... he had been enjoying the show, thank you very much!... but his good mood was quickly restored by the sight of who it was coming to see him. A girl in silver armor, _veeeerrrrrry_ pretty, and...

"Emiya! Hey, man, nice to see you. Nice night for a walk, am I right?" Shinji said jovially, as if they'd run into each other while out on a jog rather than meeting over a soon-to-be corpse.

"Sh... Shinji?" Emiya gasped, his eyes wide in shock. Shinji tried and failed to suppress a chuckle. The big doof was clueless as always. "That woman is..."

"Oh, you mean Rider?" Shinji said, still with the same air of casual cheerfulness. "Yeah, she's mine. And I guess that's yours, huh? Man, who'd have thought that you of all people would be in the War with me? This must be fate, us meeting like this."

Emiya's eyes narrowed. "Shinji... this girl, her soul... almost all of it has been drained out. She's dying, and your Servant did it?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah, Rider needed food, and souls are the best energy source for a Servant. It's no big deal, all the Masters do it. If you think this is bad, you should see what the Witch up on the mountain has been pulling! But knowing you, I guess even this little thing is going to make you go all crazy?" Shinji said, sighing in annoyance. "It's a shame you saw this... I might have been willing to work with you for a little bit, but I don't think that will be happening now."

"Saber." Emiya said. "Deal with the Servant. If I get that girl out of here she might still survive, so..."

"Understood, Master." Saber said without the slightest hesitation. "I will cover your retreat... and cut down your enemy."

Rider, who had been standing silently as a statue throughout the entire exchange, wiped the last drops of blood from her lips and crouched like a snake about to strike. "Master?"

"Well, this is good in a way, I guess. I wanted to see what you could really do." Shinji said, his easy smile going cold and ugly. "Kill them both, Rider."

Shirou made a flying leap to the prone girl, wrapping her in his arms and dragging her from the battlefield as quickly as he possibly could. He was running on adrenaline, righteous anger at Shinji, and pure shrieking terror for his life, and it let him basically just pick the girl up bodily and simply sprint her out of the line of fire.

It turned out he didn't really have to bother, when he deposited her in the nearest cover he could find (thank god they were in a park, trees were better than nothing); neither Servant had been paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Rider was fast, impossibly so; she was darting through the park like a black shooting star, so quickly his eyes could barely follow her. She would attack, retreat, and attack again from a different angle all in the space of a heartbeat. To make matters worse, her weapon was truly insane, a bizarre whip of some... no, two nails attached by a length of chain that whirled around her madly with only slight motions of her arms to attack from unpredictable angles and then be drawn almost instantly back to her hands.

But that only made Saber all the more impressive. Unable to match her opponent in agility, she had planted her feet and was repelling each and every one of those wild strikes as if she could see the future and simple knew where they would fall. Rider darted around her, mixing strikes from distance melee, yet Saber met each and every attack and pushed it back, her sword repelling the chain with seemingly no more effort than it took Rider to make the flicks of her wrist needed to send it whirling.

Shirou and Shinji both watched spellbound when they really should have been doing something productive. It was hard to blame them, really. Neither had that much experience with anything so dangerously beautiful as the almost dancelike grace of the two women as they fought. Which, of course, just made the end a greater shock.

Saber, with a single smooth motion, used her sword to tap the whirling chain so that the nail aimed for her throat instead impaled itself in the ground. Before Rider could pull it free, she stomped onto it with her armored boot and used the impact to lunge. Rider, temporarily halted in mid-dash by the sudden pressure on her weapon, was caught flat-footed.

It became obvious to Shirou, then, what had actually happened. The effortless grace with which Saber had executed her counterattack told him that this had never even been a fight: Saber had been taking Rider's measure and found it wanting. The black-clad Servant had failed to kill her in these many attacks, and now the first counter would also be Saber's last offensive of the duel.

Or rather, it should have been...

* * *

 

It all came back to yesterday night.

Just a few differences, really. Archer had escaped his confrontation with Saber unharmed thanks to Shirou's own heroic instincts working against him; expending a Command Seal to save Rin.

And thanks to Shirou's own kindness working against him, Ilya had withdrawn without any sort of attack against either him or Rin.

Had Archer been wounded, Rin could not have gone on patrol this night. And had Rin bonded with Shirou against a common enemy, it was more likely that even if they hadn't joined forces, she would have chosen to ignore him completely rather than simply not actively hunting him. But she had gone on patrol, and from their vantage point on one of the taller buildings in town, Archer's impressive vision had detected Rider attacking a woman nearly five miles away. They had gone to intervene, and taking up position on a smaller but more convenient building less than a mile from the park, they had arrived in time to see that Shirou Emiya and Saber had beaten them to the punch.

Rin had elected not to make Emiya her priority, but she could hardly ignore him when he went around openly challenging other Masters in the middle of town, nor could she simply walk away from such a tempting target. Two of her enemies, distracted and unaware of her presence, and her with both the ultimate sniping position and the ultimate sniper...

"Can you get them both from here?" Rin asked.

Archer smiled softly and drew back his bowstring, the silver arrow shining in his grip. "I think I can manage."

"Just the Servants, remember. Emiya's a moron and Shinji's a weasel, but I'm supposed to be the one _keeping_ people from dying in magical catastrophes in this town." Rin said.

"I'll try, but you remember that any attack able to kill two Servants from this distance will cause immense collateral damage. I promise nothing. Particularly with you distracting me and throwing off my aim." Archer said teasingly.

"Some great marksman you are." Rin grumbled. "Fine, fine. If you kill someone human, I'll accept it was an accident and only punish you with medium harshness."

"Why does that make my blood cold? Your medium harshness sounds like it could kill a normal person." Archer said with a small grin.

"Just take the shot, smartass."

His smile widening at the blush he knew she was wearing even without looking, he turned his body so that Rin could not see his weapon through his back. Almost immediately, the arrow in his grip changed. The silver tip extended, a hilt appeared, the shaft twisted around itself into a spiral...

His smile got even wider, and took on a distinctly predatory aspect as he viewed the ongoing battle below and almost a mile away from him down the length of his newly projected sword.

_You're too soft, Rin. You said this morning you said you were willing to kill him, but when the opportunity comes up it's suddenly 'just the Servants'. Well, be thankful you have me here to pick up the slack and be ruthless enough for both of us_. He thought, holding the sword-arrow at the ready. The two Servants needed to die for Rin to win this War, which despite everything else he did genuinely want. Shinji... he remembered Shinji well enough to know that only Sakura would miss him, and that his death would be doing her a favor despite this misplaced affection. No reason to spare that one. As for Emiya, well, that was personal.

With them that close together, a properly aimed shot could likely kill all four in one go, a perfect opportunity. Yes, things had turned out much better than he'd been hoping, he could say that much. Of course, Rin most likely wouldn't be amused when he killed the Masters along with the Servants. Despite her... dubious reassurance, she would probably make his life a living Hell. Assuming he still had a life after Shirou Emiya's death.

Ah, well. If he was still alive after that, then all of this was pointless and he was doomed to much worse than anything Rin could dish out, so it didn't really matter.

Holding the newly projected sword, complete with the modifications to design that would make it an effective arrow, Archer took aim again. He leveled the Noble Phantasm called Caladbolg, or at least his recreation of it, at the assembled figures in the distance. Then with another effort of will, he plunged his mind into the magnificent harmony of steel and fire inherent in the masterwork weapon... and Broke it. Barely restrained power began to hum in the readied arrow-sword as it became dangerously unstable, awaiting only a target to die against. _Good-bye, Ladies and Gentlemen. Well... ladies, gentleman, and Shinji._

**_I am the bone of my sword..._ **


	5. Opening Salvo

Shirou didn't know how he knew.

One moment Saber was on the verge of an easy win and they were one step closer to saving that woman, the next his blood ran cold in his veins and the world seemed to fall into slow motion. He could see it.

The sword, glittering in the moonlight. The red knight, smiling coldly as he prepared to fire. He knew there was no way he could be able to see this, see Archer taking aim from so far away, but he could as plain as day. He heard something, yet didn't hear it at the same time, and _knew_ that whatever it was he'd... heard? Not heard? He didn't even know his own thoughts anymore... he knew that whatever it was, it was dangerous. Very, very dangerous.

**_I... ... ... my sword..._ **

It sounded like gibberish, and yet for some reason...

"Saber!" he shouted. " _Get back_!"

Saber didn't know what had Shirou so worried, but her Master sounded openly terrified and he had been rather good at maintaining his cool until now, so she decided ignoring him was not wise. Shifting the angle of what had been meant to be her killing stroke, she forced mana into her legs, and instead smashed her sword into the portion of Rider's weapon that the other Servant was still holding, using her entire body to push herself backwards as hard as she could. If there was something dangerous approaching her current, position, then she needed to not only move but get Shirou out of the way _quickly_. The violet-haired Servant, recognizing that something was _wrong_ , followed suit, retreating towards Shinji and grabbing him at a greater speed than Saber herself could manage. Still, they both managed to scoop up their respective Masters and begin dragging them away from the central battlefield, and...

They very nearly made all the way out of the blast radius before Archer's attack detonated.

* * *

 

Ilya breathed a sigh of relief. As she looked at the blast through the eyes of a nearby tree. He was alive, his Servant having gotten him mostly to safety and absorbing what damage she couldn't avoid.

Er... not that she cared, really. She'd probably kill him herself! It was just that... well... she didn't want to do it _yet_. She was curious, that was all. He hadn't been anything like what she expected, and so she didn't want to kill him until she found out why that was.

Ilya was, to put it mildly, a naive girl. She believed people when they spoke to her; all people, really. She simply took it as fact that nobody would say anything that wasn't the truth, because it was just common sense to only say things that were true. If it wasn't true, why say it? That was why Kiritsugu had hurt her so deeply... when he'd told her that he would come back to her, she had _believed_ , totally and without the slightest reservation. And then he hadn't come back. Grandpapa had told her why; he had found another child, one he cared for more than her. He had abandoned her because he was coldhearted and evil, and he had realized that the Einzbern family would not allow him to corrupt Ilya after his betrayal in the Fourth Grail War, so he had simply left her behind like trash so he could mold some other child into his twisted image. And she had believed that too, because Kiritsugu... papa... wasn't _there_. If he were a good person, if he loved her, wouldn't he have been there?

Now, though, she was starting to wonder. She knew that someone involved in the Kiritsugu situation had deceived her, but she was starting to wonder who, exactly, it was. The boy had smiled at her even when she wasn't doing anything at all, and his eyes were warm and gentle. Papa's eyes had been like that sometimes; mostly they looked empty, or sad, but sometimes they'd been gentle when he played with her, or when he looked at mama. It made her feel warm inside, and did not really match what her family had told her about him... about either of them.

Grandpapa only smiled when he spoke of the Holy Grail, and his eyes were like the pictures she'd seen of sharks. When he spoke to her, it was to instruct her in her training or to preach the philosophy of the Einzbern family. He was cold, as cold as the forests around the old castle. Even in the summer the chill hung in the air...

She hadn't known the boy long, but the more she learned of the outside world, the more she was getting the impression that even if he _was_ evil, he was probably still less evil than Grandpapa.

It required further observation. So she wouldn't kill him, and she wouldn't let him die. Not until she knew for sure what he was truly like. The truth was very, very important to Ilyasviel; she always told it, and she expected everyone else to do the same. If she found out that Kiritsugu had been the one telling the truth, and that Grandpapa had been lying to her, she would be very cross indeed.

But now this. She had wanted to follow him, observe him, maybe even talk to him if she could work up the courage. And when he'd gone into battle, she had held back despite the overwhelming urge to involve herself because she didn't want him to know she was a Master, not yet. Masters fought Masters, always. To really know what he was like, she needed to see how he reacted to _her_ , not the Master of Berserker. She would never get to know him if he was on guard against her (And no, that wasn't lying to him! She wasn't going to tell him she _wasn't_ a Master! She just... wouldn't bring the subject up! That might have been cheating a little, but it was still okay, she was pretty sure!). Fortunately, even an idiot could tell that Saber would defeat Rider; Rider's Master was possibly the lowliest, most pathetic human being she had ever seen, a perfect example of how thoroughly the Makiri had rotted over the years.

Kiritsugu's boy was, from what she had seen, adorably helpless. A kitten without his Servant. The mischievous part of her had been fighting the urge for some time to sneak up and halt his motor functions with her magic, just to tease him a bit and giggle at how cute and hopeless he was. But even someone as weak as he was could deal with that slime so long as Saber was by his side.

 

Then Rin Tohsaka had to stick her big nose into Ilya's business, and her Archer was very, very strange, and Ilya was starting to get worried that someone might kill her boy before she decided if she wanted to kill him herself or not...

* * *

 

His ears ringing, Shirou blinked a few times to clear his vision. Even with her armor, she didn't weigh all that much, but he was feeling awfully sore and Saber on top of him wasn't helping. He still felt a jab of relief when she opened her eyes to gaze into his, however.

"Are you all right?" The Master and Servant asked in unison.

"... you were between me and the blast." Shirou said.

"... I'm harder to hurt than you, and my armor took most of the shrapnel. What happened?" She asked, Rider largely forgotten.

"I... Archer. Tohsaka's Archer just tried to... he attacked us. I think he was firing from that building, over..." he said, scanning the skyline, "There. The office building... the only one in that row of buildings that doesn't have any lights on in any of the windows. Must have chosen it because it was vacant..."

Saber stood and helped her Master to his feet. "How did you know which building they are-" Before she finished the sentence, she suddenly spun in place, the wind howling as her sword snapped through the air to smash aside an incoming silver flash, then another, then another...

Shirou watched in awe. The arrows... and they were arrows, he could see when they hit the ground after she intercepted them... were moving like bullets, visible only because of their size and the way they reflected the streetlights. And yet Saber was deflecting them like they were nothing. And he could see... yes, amid the silver flashes on the other side of the park, a shadow was weaving as Rider dodged among the arrows, her speed not visibly affected by the fact that she had slung a clearly uncomfortable Shinji over her shoulder. And the arrows themselves were reason to be impressed, descending like a silver monsoon, far too fast and far too numerous to be the work of anything but a machine gun, yet they were arrows...

He wondered if he would ever stop being awed by Servants, he really did.

"I believe you were correct when you stated we were under attack by Archer, Master." Saber said conversationally as she batted aside another arrow. "At least, I don't believe any of the other Servants could manage a projectile attack of this caliber. Fortunately, projectile weaponry is largely useless against me if I can see the path of the missile. Still, another shot on the level of that first attack would be best avoided, so I should hunt him down."

"Er... yeah." Shirou said, trying to get his amazement back under control. "He's on the building I pointed out to you... I don't know, I just sort of _saw_ him there. Don't ask me how."

 _And that smile... like he was looking me right in the eye from a mile away and laughing at the thought of my death_. Shirou thought. _Tohsaka... what kind of Servant did you call?_

 _And are you there with him, looking over his shoulder while he tries to kill me_?

"As you command." Saber said, spinning her sword in a wide arc to repel more of the incoming projectiles. "I shall not ask, although I am curious."

"Er, no, you can ask, it's just that I don't _know_."

"Ah, very well." Saber said, nodding. "Master, it would perhaps be prudent for you to take cover while I deal with the enemy? Archer will not be able to kill you if he is trying to slow my advance. I believe that large tree near the bench in the northwest corner of the park should provide an acceptable shield. I will cover your retreat."

"What about Rider?" Shirou asked.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH-" Shinji said as he went flying through the air into a tangle of bushes, Rider 'depositing' him into cover before vanishing into the darkened streets to pursue Archer.

"I believe that, for the moment, she is closer to an ally than an enemy." Saber said. "Now take cover!"

As Saber disappeared in a burst of wind, charging down the enemy and striking aside projectiles as if she were swatting flies, Shirou hid behind a tree.

 _This... this is not acceptable_. He thought in supreme humiliation. _I should be out there with her, but I can't even stand in the open without getting killed! This is just... what kind of a useless Master am I?_

_I need to get stronger. I can't be like this, I can't be like..._

Gasping for air and brushing thorns off his clothes, Shinji Matou dove behind the tree next to him.

_... like him, basically._

"Gah... that bitch! I'm her Master, and she throws me around like a piece of trash? She'd better kill whoever is out to get me, or I swear I'll..." He snapped to the night air in general, only to have his voice trail off when he recognized who was sitting next to him. He snarled a curse, reaching inside his shirt for something...

Shirou, then, taught him the problems with trying to reach for a weapon in a point-blank fight by simply grabbing Shinji's head and slamming it into the tree.

"Ow..." Shinji said, his eyes going distinctly unfocused. It was a good thing he had already been sitting down, because his knees went very weak.

"I would tell you to give up your Command Seals and bow out of the war, now that I know you're having your Servant eat people." Shirou said, glad to have encountered a problem he could deal with. "But Rider is helping Saber, so I don't want her to disappear right now. But Shinji... I can't forgive your actions here easily. You're going to sit here, and you're not going to talk, and since we're in a war zone I won't take whatever weapon you have in there but if you try to pull it on _me_ again I will hit you until you stop moving. And once we're safe, you _are_ out of this war and you _will_ pay for your crimes."

Shinji gave him a somewhat fuzzy look of pure loathing. It seemed deeply wrong on the face of someone he had until moments ago still considered at least a friend, if not a close one. "H-how... how dare..."

"I was completely serious about beating you unconscious, Shinji."

Shinji stopped talking.

* * *

 

Archer sighed in annoyance, continuing his bombardment out of pure spite. The kid had seen it coming. Presumably he had sensed the projection somehow... this close together, he supposed their magic might be interacting in unexpected ways. Well, he'd remember that and compensate in the future. In the meantime, Rider was flitting in and out of his vision and Saber was charging straight down his throat and deflecting everything he threw at her; just nameless blades remade as arrows, certainly no match for her holy sword, but the fact that she could discern and deflect all of them was something special. She really was as amazing as he remembered.

"They're on their way, Rin," he said, sending off another volley. "I can only slow them down like this. We will have company very soon."

"H... how do you fire so many?" Rin asked in a hushed tone, honestly confused. It was like he was not only moving more quickly than humanly possible, but also that many of the arrows were not even being fired from his bow, they were just appearing in the air in front of him...

"That's not what matters right now, Rin. What matters is that two Servants are converging on our position and I can't defeat them both if I have to protect you."

"Oh, of c... _if you have to protect me_?!" Rin snapped. "You can't defeat them both at _all_! Saber would have killed you if Emiya hadn't stopped her the first time we..."

"Rin! Focus, please!" Archer said sharply. "If I fight defensively, I can at least hold them both for some time. And they won't be fighting as a team, not really, which will make things easier. But if you're there, they'll force me to protect you and we'll both end up dead."

Rin nodded. "Right. I see. So you don't want me to... oh. Oh-ho. Archer, I think I have a plan. Make sure that Saber and Rider both come after you, okay? I need you to keep them off my back for a bit!" She said, running for the stairs.

Archer considered the situation and what she was most likely planning... and smiled wickedly. "Clever girl."

Well then, it was time to be a distraction then. Casting aside his rain of weak arrows, he centered his will into a greater projection. A jagged, black blade appeared in his hands, and he drew back the bowstring.

" _Hrunting_." He said under his breath.

The blade was solid black, a twisted, serrated, jagged piece of work. But while it might be ugly, it served Archer's purpose as a missile better than nearly any sword imaginable. Lacking the raw destructive power of Caladbolg as artillery, Hrunting, one of the Noble Phantasms of the hero Beowulf, instead possessed a certain quality that made it an ideal tool for sniping. As Saber would soon be learning...

He took aim at the silver knight, Broke the Phantasm, and fired. As the arrow flew, it took on red highlights, swiftly becoming a brilliant red bullet that lit up the sky as it streaked towards Saber. With contemptuous ease, she simply leapt over the blast and continued her charge... only to have her eyes widen in shock at the realization that the arrow had shifted its course to follow her jump. Archer couldn't help but admire her grace as she twisted in midair, slamming her invisible sword into the streak of red that ignored all rules of inertia to change its direction in flight. The red streak shattered upon connecting with Saber's peerless sword, finally halting its flight permanently, but the immense energy released still sent her flying to slam painfully into the side of nearby apartment building. Those tenants would be having an amusing morning...

Archer smiled, and projected another copy of the black sword. Hrunting's value as a weapon was that once it chose a target, it would not stop until it hit or it was destroyed, so long as the swordsman kept his aim on that chosen target. For a swordsman in melee, this had some value; Beowulf had found it quite nice for killing slippery, water-dwelling monsters. For an archer using the sword as a _projectile_ , an arrow that would ceaselessly pursue the target of his choice, changing directions in midair and drilling through obstacles... the applications were far, far more interesting.

 _Saber blocked that one a bit too easily; let's try refining the projection a bit more. Trace, on. Analyzing basic composition, reconfiguring elements to enhance aerodynamics and piercing capabilities. Increasing mana infusion by 20%_. He thought, the blade taking on a violent red aura with the strengthening magic. He adjusted his aim to take in the brief flash of violet that marked Rider's passing through a spot of light and released the arrow. If she thought she could evade his eyes by sticking to the shadows, she was about to be unpleasantly surprised.

Rider tried a different tactic than the one she'd seen Saber fail at, accelerating _past_ the arrow and dodging to the side more quickly than it could adjust. She was not amused to discover it turning to follow her, nor happy to find that it was _extremely_ fast. It would catch her rather quickly, unless...

Rider did not smile as the idea struck her, but only because she was by nature a rather stoic woman.

She veered sharply, weaving in and out of multiple alleys with the arrow on her tail until she found what she was looking for: Saber, only just having climbed out of the impact crater she'd made. Rider charged her as she oriented herself, and Saber instantly dropped into a defensive stance. She was caught slightly off-guard, then, when Rider did not attack her but jumped _over_ her, so closely Saber could feel the other woman's body graze her hair.

Her attention was then caught more strongly by the red bullet following in Rider's footsteps and preparing to go through her in order to get there. She brought her sword into the path of the arrow, Invisible Air screaming as the red bolt collided with the raging wind, the conflicting energies kicking up a small hurricane. This arrow was stronger than the last... she could feel the asphalt beneath her boots cracking from the pressure.

But she was not in the air, this time. And with her feet planted and her blade held firmly, she was a different foe altogether. Pouring mana into her arms and her sword, with a cry of exertion she swung her blade with all her might. For just a second, her wind scabbard parted to reveal the golden blade beneath, and the greatest of holy swords sliced the offending projectile in half. The pieces of the shattered black sword struck the street on either side of the knight with enough force to pierce into it until they totally disappeared from view. The force of the blast did little more than ruffle her hair and dress, her blade and mana absorbed the blast so thoroughly.

She turned to rebuke Rider for using her as a human shield, only to find that the black Servant was already long gone.

Archer stepped back from the edge of the building, his bow disappearing to be replaced by the twin swords Kanshou and Bakuya. The extra charge he'd given to that second arrow meant it would take him at least twenty seconds to bring up another of that caliber, and he didn't have that much-

Rider leapt up over the edge of the building, having crossed the remaining distance and scaled the structure before those twenty seconds were up. Apparently she was even quicker when she could just sprint in a straight line without dodging, and she'd correctly deduced that the increased power of the second shot had come at a price. Still, her Master was Shinji, which had to hold her back a good margin. If it had been one-on-one, he was absolutely certain he could defeat her despite her talents as a Servant.

The problem was, Saber was also on her way, and two Servants was a tall order if he wanted to actually have some prayer of winning. In particular, going into melee with Saber was just asking for death unless she was the only thing he had to worry about; she'd cut him to pieces if he also had to deal with keeping Rider's spikes out of his neck. So he needed to at least immobilize Rider before Saber arrived, and that was difficult since he probably had less than a minute.

Leaping backwards to avoid the chain spike that impaled itself in the roof where he had been standing, Archer landed in a crouch, dug his blades into the roof, and spun in a quick circle. His cape whirling around him, he fell through onto the top floor of the empty office building, throwing Kanshou up through the newly created hole before he even landed. Rider dove for the opening, only to pull back abruptly as the black blade came whirling out of it.  
_  
A transparent ploy to buy a few seconds_ , she thought. He didn't want to engage her in melee, apparently; appropriate for an Archer. She dove down through the hole, to see something strange... the other sword, the white one, was planted in the floor at the bottom of the hole she'd dropped into.

She heard something cutting the air behind her. The black sword was coming back, far more quickly than gravity should have allowed, being pulled toward the white...!

She snapped her chain into a nearby wall, using it to pull herself out of her descent and away from the area between the two blades before she was sliced in half. She caught a glimpse of Archer, smiling, with an arrow knocked, but he wouldn't hit her by aiming where he was, she was too quick for...

Oh no. He knew he wasn't going to hit her, didn't he?

Archer hurled another pair of Kanshou and Bakuya, this set Broken, to collide with the flying black sword in midair... and explode very, very close to Rider.

He decided with not-inconsiderable satisfaction that blasting her out the window of a thirty-story building was a decent way to immobilize her for a few minutes. It probably wouldn't kill her, since the final impact at the bottom was mundane, of little value against a Servant, but she would not be going anywhere for a bit.

His satisfaction was dampened as Saber leapt in through the window shattered by Rider's fall, the wind howling as she crossed the space to him in less than a second and took a nasty chunk out of his chest as his dodge was not _quite_ fast enough. Fighting to maintain his footing and composure, he brought new copies of his favored swords into existence and parried her second blow, feeling the shock up his arms from her power and the strength of her sword. _Amazing as ever... these weapons really are no match..._

Oddly enough, when he jumped back and over an overturned desk to get some space, she did not follow, merely kept him within dashing distance so he could not begin using projectiles again. She looked... cautious?

"Where..." She asked in a worried tone, "... is Rin?"

Archer smiled. "You missed her? She was headed right past you, I believe."

Saber's eyes widened. "Shirou...!"

"Good plan, no? I was actually somewhat proud when Rin came up with it. Why bother with you when your Master is such an easy target, right? She'll probably do something fluffy like try to make him give up his Command Seals before she turns to violence, but at least she spotted a sensible path to victory and took it. She's growing, don't you think? And when she has to kill those two because they won't give in, she'll grow even more." Archer said calmly. "She's not ruthless enough, not willing to make all the necessary sacrifices. Even if you have to kill one, dozen, a hundred people to win this war, isn't that better than letting people like Shinji Matou and his blood-drinker get their hands on a power like the Holy Grail? Maybe seeing real combat and bloodying her hands a bit will drive that point home."

"Archer, you...!" Saber said, bristling both at the threat to her Master and at his frank admission of his satisfaction at the thought of the honestly likable girl she'd met the previous night turning into a coldhearted killer. She fully intended to defeat Rin for the Holy Grail, but she had wanted it to be a fair and genuine contest in deference to the girl's pleasant personality. Now...

"Don't waste your venom on me. Whatever my thoughts on her development, it's still a solid tactic to focus on the Master first. Shirou Emiya and Shinji Matou are no match for a genuine Magus like Rin. And if you try to go stop her, you can know for a fact that I'll shoot you in the back at the first opportunity." Archer said calmly. "So now that you finally understand what's going on, tell me, Saber... you can probably defeat me, but do you think you can do it before Rin finishes your worthless Master off?"

* * *

 

Shirou and Shinji sat in awkward silence.

"So... you're a Master?" Shirou asked.

"... don't talk to me." Shinji said. His head still hurt. A lot.

Shirou fell silent. Honestly, he'd just found out his friend, who he would have called 'an okay guy with some rough spots' yesterday at this time, was going around feeding people to his summoned monster.

... _What do I do if she dies? Or if there have been other victims?_ He wondered. _If she was the first, and she survives, I could maybe still redeem Shinji. Let him off with just being removed from this War. But if she dies, or if she wasn't the first, if he's... if he's a **murderer**_...

What should he do? Shinji couldn't be prosecuted by human law for crimes committed by a Servant. Should he... should he just kill Shinji? Just... just grab a rock or something and bash his head in? Order Saber to cut him down where he stood? Eye for an eye justice?

 _A hero stops the villain, doesn't he? He was standing over that woman and watching her die like it was funny, does he deserve mercy_? Shirou asked silently. _God, he's **Shinji,** I've known him for years, he's Sakura's **brother**! I can't just kill him, but I can't just let him go either...!_

And then something slammed into the ground next to the tree, invisible but with a pressure he could still feel somehow. He silently thanked whatever it was for giving him a problem he could understand more easily.

"I know where you are, boys. Come out, surrender peacefully, and you can both leave with nothing but the Command Seals ripped out of your nerves. Losing use of an arm is pretty merciful compared to what some Masters would do to you." Rin Tohsaka's voice commanded. "Don't play nice, and the next shot punches that tree in half."

Shinji's eyes widened in panic. "Wh-where did she... damn! I'm calling Rider, we need to..."

"No! I don't think either of our Servants should fight Archer alone!" Shirou said.

"Who cares about them? They're supposed to die anyway, I just want to get out of here alive!" Shinji countered.

Shirou stared at him for several seconds. "All right, I have a plan. That spell was called 'Gandr'. I learned about it from my father... it causes a virus in the target for a few days. It won't kill you."

"... it won't kill _me_?"

"Yeah. Because I'm using you as a shield until I can find some kind of weapon." Shirou said.

"What?"

"I can only do reinforcement magic. So unless I can find a... a stick, or something to use as a weapon, I can't beat her. So I need a shield to block at least her first shot until I can find one."

"So? You can't use _me_!" _Rider! Rider get your ass back here right n-_

"You have a weapon in your chest pocket, right? You can maybe hold her off for a few seconds." Shirou said reassuringly. "I'll help as soon as I can, and she won't kill you, I know her."

"She's a Master! Of course she'll kill m-" Shinji began. He didn't finish because Shirou picked that moment to grab him by the shirt-front, spin him around the tree, and physically chuck him at Rin.

He then, you know, went off to find a stick or something to use as a weapon.

* * *

 

Saber was becoming frustrated.

No matter how her invisible blade moved, Archer seemed to know precisely what weak point she was aiming at and just barely manage a defense. And he didn't allow her to retreat, either, despite the fact that his Archer class should be trying to get to higher ground for sniping purposes. Whatever else could be said about him, two things were obvious. First, he was a highly skilled and intelligent opponent to keep up with her blade, even as weakened as she was by Shirou's inability to supply her with power.

Second... he _knew_.

He knew who she was! There was simply no other explanation. He knew the precise size and shape of her sword, or he couldn't have defended so perfectly. And while that could be explained away by saying that he could see through illusions or had analyzed Invisible Air in her fight with Rider, he was also staying close to her. He knew that with them so near the rooftops, he shouldn't get too far away from her or she would be able to use her Noble Phantasm without fear of hitting innocent bystanders. Somehow, he knew who she was.

Saber stopped her attack, her sword held cautiously at her side. "You... I don't know you, so how...?"

Archer smirked, holding Kanshou slightly behind and below Bakuya in a defensive posture that should allow him to get at least one sword into the path of any attack. "Maybe I was in your army, your majesty. Do you remember every knight under your command?"

"Of course not, no king can know every soldier in their army. But a warrior of your caliber would have had an honored seat at my table, and since you did not, I can say that I did not know you in my life." She said frankly.

"HA! Well, I guess it's a shame I wasn't born in your kingdom, then... some recognition would have been nice." Archer said, his smirk remaining firmly in place. "On the other hand, considering how your kingdom ended up..."

Her next attack slashed completely through Kanshou and halfway through Bakuya before his guard managed to stop it. He saw the promise of death in her pretty eyes. He pulled back, inviting her to continue her lunge, and she obliged, once again with a vicious two-handed chop that ruined another pair of newly-projected swords.

 _Razor-sharp... lightning fast..._ he thought, fighting to keep his expression worried so that she wouldn't comprehend what he was really trying to do. _... and blessedly predictable_.

A part of him felt bad, honestly. He knew how sensitive she was about the subject of her kingdom, and knew that anger would dull her reactions, make her strokes more obvious. And stronger, granted, but he could get new swords easily enough. Better to project a new weapon with each exchange than deal with Saber at her best. She was stronger than him, had a better weapon, and was a more talented natural swordswoman; his hope for victory lie in making her fight with emotion and cloud her instincts so she was easy to read and he knew exactly where those powerful blows would land.

The sword dance continued like that, shards of metal from shattered sword after shattered sword being hurled through the building only to vanish as old projections ended and new began. Saber's anger made her attacks lack the finesse they should have had, and her wild swings would eventually leave...

There. An opening. Her next step forward would take her onto uneven ground, a piece of rubble that would throw off her footing and make her already in-progress swing lose its killing edge. He would hook her unbalanced sword on Kanshou, letting him hold her just enough to give him the second he needed to flick Bakuya into her throat. It wouldn't take her head off, so she wouldn't die, but not even Saber could just keep fighting with her neck slashed open. He could finish her off at will.

She lunged, exactly as planned. Tripped, exactly as planned. He caught the sword, prepared to make the tiny flick of his wrist needed to end the fight...

She snapped one hand off her sword and in front of her face. She winced in pain as his blade slashed through armor and into flesh, but not so much pain that she wasn't able to disengage her sword and leap backward, eyes wide.

"Damn... I thought I had you for a moment there." Archer said. "Should have known you weren't as angry as I thought you were. Still, I came close, and one of your arms isn't such a bad consolation prize."

"Archer..." Saber said, her eyes still wide with shock and fear as she looked around the shadows, searching for something. "Where is Rider?"

Archer considered this for a moment. He was certain he hadn't killed her, just wounded. And he'd been so caught up in the duel that he hadn't even considered that Rider hadn't made any sort of a reappearance, despite the fact that she would have had a considerable advantage in this darkness...

"Damn!" He said, breaking into a sprint and preparing to leap out the window to get to the park more quickly, Saber following on his heels.

 _Dammit, Rin, this is what Command Seals are for_! He screamed mentally. _Call me, call me, **call me**!_

* * *

 

Rin's eyes widened in surprise as something warm and soft slammed into her midsection. The wind knocked out of her, she, elegantly and with the dignity appropriate the Tohsaka heir, fell on her ass.

She looked down in confusion to see what, exactly, had come whipping around the tree at that unusual speed, and saw Shinji Matou's familiar blue mop. He had his face buried in her stomach, and he had reflexively grabbed onto her legs.

So she, elegantly and with the dignity appropriate the Tohsaka heir, said, " _Who the Hell do you think you're touching_?!" And punched him in the side of the head as hard as she could.

That was a mistake. Bone on bone hurt her hand as much as his head.

"Ow... ow... ow..." Shinji said, raising his head. Rin's eyes widened slightly at the look on his face. He didn't seem 'angry' so much as... inhuman. "I... am so sick... of you people treating me like your punching bag!"

She leveled her palm in his direction, the Tohsaka Magic Crest gleaming upon her forearm. "Then you shouldn't be so good at getting hit. Surrender, or..."

He threw his hand inside his shirt, extended his other, and something dark, cold, and sharp roared towards her.

Fortunately, Rin Tohsaka was actually pretty good at this. Her physical training was flawless, and her instincts were sound. She might not have been very experienced, but experience was the only thing she was lacking, and dodging such a simplistic magic as this blade of darkness was no problem. Still, she could admit to a certain amount of surprise that Shinji was capable of even that much.

"Not bad, Matou." She said. "A Servant, some low-grade battle spells... considering you're not even a Magus, you've put together a passable defensive package. I wouldn't say I'm impressed, but at least I'm... amused."

Shinji stood facing her, a small book clenched in his hands. "See if you're still amused in a second, bitch." He spat, his face contorted in frankly unsettling fury. She'd known Matou was a weasel, but she was suspecting now that he was legitimately unstable. And the book...

Rin was an excellent Magus. She knew a magic like that by sight. _Ah. Ah-ha. So that's how a no-count like this managed to take control of Rider_. She put on her best smirk. "Shinji, Shinji, Shinji. I know your family tree is a bit withered, but depending on charity? Did grandpa decide he couldn't be bothered to get up this week, but wanted into the War anyway?"

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!" Shinji growled, more of the same blades of darkness slicing through the night air towards her.

She didn't even bother to dodge, merely held her Magic Crest in front of her and willed a counter blast. The blades were shredded by her own spell, hurling Shinji to his knees once again. She hoped he enjoyed the pain to go on top of his new virus, she'd put in the extra effort for a physical blow. "Do you really think your bargain-bin sorcery and stolen mana can handle a real magus, Shinji?"

He smiled horribly and wiped blood from his nose, his skin already looking pale. "Not really. Bet she can, though." He hissed.

Rin never even saw Rider hit her. One moment she was in control of the situation, the next she was pinned to the ground with her Crest arm twisted painfully behind her... and a soft hand pushing her hair away from her neck.

"What have we here?" Rider purred. "Lunch?"

Eyes wide in horror, Rin tried to pour mana into her crest, simply make a burst to blast the Servant away... and cried out as Rider twisted the arm harder. She heard tendons pop.

"There, there. It will only hurt for a second, and then it feels rather good." Rider chided her, leaning towards her bared neck.

She made it about halfway there before something heavy and blunt smashed into the back of her skull. It didn't really hurt, but it was enough to be a nuisance, so she slammed the captive Mage's head into the dirt once to dizzy her and leapt into a defensive stance. The Servant nearly laughed out loud at the sight of the red-haired boy, brandishing a stick with a frankly pitiful aura of magic about it as though it were a sword.

"E... Emiya...?" The dazed Magus said. Her head was heavy and her arm hurt like Hell, but she thought she could focus enough to see...

"Emiya, whose side are you on? She was going to kill us both! I'm just returning the favor!" Shinji protested.

"She wasn't. And even if she were, I wouldn't let you just feed her to that thing! She's a person, not food!" Shirou said firmly.

Rider sighed in annoyance. "Master, I had a head start, but their Servants will be here shortly..."

Shinji smiled in triumph. "Well... it seems like I'm saying this more and more often these days. Kill them both, Rider."

* * *

 

Ilya was no longer divided.

Rin had not been intending to kill onii-chan, so she had not intervened. The girl might talk big, but unlike Ilya, who no problem with death unless it happened to someone she actually liked, Rin was squeamish. She didn't truly want to kill even the slimy Makiri thing, though the world would certainly be a lot less sleazy without him. She had just meant to take the boy's Servant, and Ilya could not care less about Saber.

But now, because Rin had not simply blown the Makiri Master's head off when she had the chance, his Servant was back. The two Masters might be able to hold Rider off for a time, as weakened as she was by her worthless Master, but the Servant would win in the end. Saber and Archer would not be there in time.

But she was closer, and she had someone faster...

She didn't know much about the boy, but she had come to one decision, after all of her thinking. Whatever else he was, he was hers. She had come to Japan solely for him, that much had not changed just because she was no longer certain what she wanted to do once she had him.

If he died, it would be when she wished him to die.

If she decided she did not wish for such a thing, then _he would not die._

And until she made up her mind, nobody was allowed to harm a single hair on his head, because he. Belonged. To her! Not to Makiri, not to Tohsaka, and not even to Einzbern; he was Ilya's. Her own. And nobody took something that belonged to her.

"Go, Berserker."

And the black giant roared, free to enter the battle at last.


	6. Hurricane

**Chapter 5: Hurricane**

To call it a mismatch would have been a laughable understatement.

On one side, a Magus and a sorta-Magus. Of these two, Rin Tohsaka could barely even see straight and Shirou Emiya was armed with weaponry consisting of a harder-than-average stick.

On the other side, Rider. The scent of blood filled the air just from her presence. She seemed part of the darkness; like liquid night poured into a human skin. Her every motion held a graceful, deadly beauty like a hawk in flight. Anyone with eyes could tell that she was something that was simply beyond humanity. Perhaps not as deadly a combatant as Saber, but certainly far, far more than any mortal could face.

So yes, it might have seemed to the casual observer that perhaps one side held a slight advantage in this confrontation.

When Rider moved, Shirou could barely see her. As before, she seemed to blend with every single shadow she touched, almost becoming part of the background she so seamlessly vanished into them. And her speed was, of course, impossible. Unimaginable. Even with raw adrenaline gushing through his veins and his reaction time amped up to far greater than normal, Shirou very nearly died to her first strike.

She didn't come at him from the front; he had no idea how, but she looped around him in the space of a second and struck at the side of his neck, her hand held flat as if to spear him through the jugular. He snapped his improvised weapon into the path of her hand, and it snapped despite his reinforcement, but it held her back for just enough time for him to...

One of her twin nails, swung behind her charge and just now catching up, speared him in the side, lodging between two ribs. The shock and pain disoriented him, and he could taste blood in his mouth and realized that was a very bad sign. He had little time to ponder it, however, as Rider then proceeded to swing him directly into a tree with bone-crushing force. Literally. Shirou could hear the bone break inside him, and hoped it wasn't anything he needed to live...

 _Ha. Live? What am I worrying about **that** for_? He wondered deliriously, watching Rider begin to walk . She was coming for him, and he could already see it, in his mind's eye, those teeth sinking into his throat. Shinji had no mana, after all, so she wouldn't waste even a talentless Magus when she needed energy so badly. _I need to get out of here_... He thought, still trying to focus his mind enough to actually _accomplish_ this. His limbs felt like jelly, there was no way he could possibly stand up on his own power. He tried anyway, the edges of his broken bones and torn muscles sending fresh shocks of agony through him at the futile effort, and the Servant was only getting closer...

Rin Tohsaka watched this, and she wasn't thinking anything so silly as that. Her own mind was beginning to clear somewhat, and she saw Emiya clearly on his was to becoming the Servant's latest meal. _He saved my life. Again. And... more to the point, I need his help to get out of this mess._ She slid something small and brilliant from her sleeve, a tiny, magnificently cut gemstone that glowed with an inner fire. There was an A-rank spell held in there, and she doubted Rider had the kind of magic resistance that had allowed Saber to shrug off her gems. If she could land a direct hit on the head or heart, she might even be able to kill Rider here and now. Tensing her arm, she prepared to throw...

"Rider, behind you." Shinji said calmly.

Without looking, Rider threw the other end of her weapon at the downed Magus. Rin had enough presence of mind to roll, letting the weapon impale itself in the ground instead of in her face, but her shot was ruined and now Rider was focused directly on her. _Dammit... Shinji really does ruin everything!_

"Ah... unlike the other, this one actually has some magic worth being cautious of. But the other is a better target... I wonder which I should destroy first?" The violet-haired Servant asked.

"Either. Both. As long as they bleed." Shinji said with dark satisfaction, sweat running down his brow freely. She knew it was petty, but Rin felt a dark burst of glee. _Well, at least the Gandr curse is taking hold. Enjoy spending tomorrow in bed throwing up blood, jackass..._

Rider stood, one 'nail' in each hand. "As you command, Master." she said calmly.

Damn... Rin said. Rider was going to send one spike for each of their throats, and there was not much Rin could do about it. She wasn't sure she had the speed in her at the moment to dodge, and Emiya couldn't move, and a counterattack while Rider was prepared would do little but make the Servant focus only on her...!

Rider snapped her wrists, one blade flying toward each of the two humans at near-bullet speed...

And the world froze.

An aura descended upon the park, an all-consuming feeling of rage and blood-lust backed by a power as implacable and unyielding as a mountain. It was not only a matter of magical strength... beyond that. A sensation, primal and terrible, that flooded the consciousness of everyone in the area, even Rider; the feeling of a rabbit that has been cornered by a wolf and is about to be ripped apart, helpless and terrified.

Rider drew back in her chain blade before the attack had gone more than a foot from her hands and leapt for safety out of some primitive survival instinct. Something huge, dark, and horrible leapt into the space between her and Shirou Emiya, striking at her with enough force to leave the ground where she had been standing gouged five feet straight down.

Landing nimbly on her feet, her weapon coiled around her like a python, Rider stared at the scene in open fear. That attack would have split her in half had it connected... and judging by the power of the being she saw before her, it had been little more than an offhanded gesture.

Shirou looked up at his savior. And up.

And up.

It was a Servant, there was no doubt about that much. But to call this thing merely a 'Servant' seemed the equivalent of calling a wolf just a 'dog' or a tiger just a 'cat'. There was no beauty, there; not Saber's holy purity, or Rider's deadly grace, or even the somber dignity of Archer. Two meters tall, at the very least... muscles so massive and corded they bordered on the grotesque... bronze skin and inhuman red eyes... all of these things were discomforting enough. But more than anything physical, this creature was horrifying because of the aura it exuded of sheer, mindless, impossible power. Like nothing Shirou had ever seen or even dreamed of in his blackest nightmares, like watching an earthquake or staring into an oncoming hurricane, frozen in fear and awe by the unimaginable destructive potential and the prospect of certain death.

Rider, seeming so deadly mere moments ago, was rooted to the spot in fear. She understood better than anyone else present the nature of the sensations she felt, the type of creature that stood before her: if she attacked, she would be crushed in a single stroke. Even if she took no offensive action and acted solely to preserve her own life, she would most likely not be leaving this park alive if that giant decided it wanted her dead. Rin, jewel still in hand, was shaking so hard she could not even consider actually using the muscle control needed to throw it. Even Shinji, who had all the magical instincts of a stump, seemed to be instinctively aware that his life was most likely about to end; his eyes were wide, his mouth frozen in a rictus grin of sheer horror.

A Servant? No. This was a destroyer. A being wholly specialized for the obliteration of life. It had no purpose but to choose a target and attack, attack, attack with relentless fury and unstoppable force until that target was nothing but wet meat on the ground, and then to choose another target, and another, and another, until there was nothing around it but death.

So why the Hell had something like that saved him, exactly?

He would not be learning the answer to this that night, however, as the black giant threw back its head and roared, a sound that shook the earth. Shirou could feel his broken bones vibrate painfully and winced. And with that roar, Berserker charged.

* * *

 

_Berserker was not a protector. He was a killer, and had no other purpose. He could protect, in a sense, as he protected Ilya; by destroying everything in the area with the slightest hostile intent towards her, until she gave him the order to stop. And so he would do such with the boy she had ordered him to defend. And as there was not one thing in this park that had not showed hostility towards the boy during the time Ilya and Berserker had been observing the battle, Berserker would kill, and kill, and kill, until there was not even one living thing standing to harm his protectorate. Ilya had not given him orders to the contrary; she cared only for the boy's safety, nothing else. There were three moving things within the field of his senses that had presented a threat to the boy. All three of those things would die here._

_The greatest threat, the thing that stood out the most against the violent red mist that was Berserker's mind, was the Servant. So he attacked her first. She was quick, and agile, but Berserker's speed was a match for her. She leapt into the trees, but they shattered like toothpicks to the swings of Berserker's monstrous weapon. The only problem was his size... he needed to break those trees to move, but Rider did not. She could pass more quickly, gain distance. But she could not stop dodging, could not counter at all. Her attacks were less than fleabites, her defenses no more use than wet cloth. All Berserker needed to do was keep her in range long enough to land even a single blow. A single blow would be enough to end this 'battle', and it was only a matter of time until that blow landed. Berserker just needed to keep swinging. They would, eventually, run out of trees to get in the way..._

_There._

* * *

 

Rin was not entirely sure what she should be doing.

The battle between the two Servants sounded like a lunatic woodchipper. The space among the trees was as black as pitch; the only way to tell where they were was by following the sounds of shattering wood and the occasional roar of the giant.

So what should she do about it? Archer was on his way, but... she was not confident in his ability to halt that monster. Perhaps she should just flee? But... Emiya had saved her life. She couldn't leave him here with that thing, right? She owed him. But using anything but her entire stockpile of gems against that thing would be pointless; her normal magic would be no more use than trying to browbeat it into submission with a severe scolding. Could she really afford to give up her best weapons just to help Emiya? Yes, he had saved her, but didn't she have her own life to consider too? There was a War going on, and...

Something limp and black was hurled out of the woods like a rag-doll, taking the choice out of her hands.

* * *

 

_The space between the trees had been too large._

_This was a park, the trees were not all close together. It was simply Rider's poor luck that she chose a path that lead to a clearing large enough for Berserker's body to fit without smashing any. She took the wrong path, that was all. And when she did, Berserker closed the gap. It was really all over once that happened. Rider was still a Servant, of course, and knew she was about to be struck; she twisted her body out of the way in midair, and defended with her own weapon._

_This kept her from being sliced completely in half at the waist, but not by much._

_Sent flying, limp and broken, the Servant slammed into the ground with bruising force and skidded to a halt. She was still technically in one piece, still alive, but she would not stand again. It was not a question of power or mana, but of structure; her abdominal muscles had been completely shredded, the only thing holding her body together was her spine. Attempting to stand would cause her to break in half, Servant or no. Her legs flopped uselessly, and she coughed up blood._

_She was still alive, and so Berserker's blood screamed at him to kill her even as her own Master screamed uselessly for her to stand and defend him. It would be simple to finish her. A single blow; just one more blow would finish her off._

_But no. There were more important matters for him; his Master's command, the only thing that could overcome the Servant's natural blood-lust even temporarily._

_'Protect the Boy'._

_He had protected the boy from the Servant well enough, she was no longer a threat and would not heal any time soon. The priority, the closest thing to a thought he could have, was the impulse to deal with potential dangers, and the greatest danger now present was the girl with the shining magic jewel in her hand..._

* * *

 

Rin saw Rider fall to earth like so much useless meat.

She heard Shinji panic, screaming at the woman to rise even though anyone with eyes could tell the wounds would not allow it.

And most of all, she saw the black giant turn its eyes towards her, and all other thought was torn away by the knowledge that she was about to die. Rider was a Servant, and even she had been helpless against that thing; how could Rin possibly have the slightest hope of success? Escape was impossible, victory was impossible...

Shinji continued to wail at his fallen Servant, berating her for her uselessness. The Command Seal caused her visible pain as she tried to obey despite the limitations of her broken body.

 _Well, that decides that, then_. Rin thought. She planted her feet and flipped another pair of jewels to her hand, leaving her holding three. Maybe she could at least do some real damage before that thing took her apart. If she was going to die, she would go out with some dignity, not whimpering like a beaten dog. She was a Magus of Tohsaka, and if nothing else she could die well.

The giant charged; fast, impossibly fast, she probably wouldn't even have time to fire but maybe she could detonate the gems while it was on top of her and ripping her apart and...

Something red pushed leapt between her and the giant. It couldn't have been fast enough to react. It had to have simply been moving in that direction before the giant had even started its rush, assuming that she would be next. _Archer_...? She thought in dazed hope. But no, the wrong shade of red, and...

Shirou Emiya stood before her, his arms raised as if to use his own body as a shield.

Rin would have found it rather sweet if it weren't the single stupidest thing she'd ever seen in her life. For starters, that thing was just going to stomp over him, he was no shield at all. Also, how was even moving? Hadn't he been too hurt to stand? The incongruity of the situation nearly made her laugh out loud, if she weren't painfully aware that it had been almost half a second since the monster had charged and the axe-sword was already descending...

And stopping?

What the Hell?

The giant stopped in its tracks, its weapon halted roughly an inch away from Emiya's face.

Shirou's eyes widened in confusion. He had... well, sorta been expecting to be dead at this point.

"Um... huh?" Rin said. She couldn't help it.

Berserker, with the air of a gorilla lifting a kitten, placed its hand delicately around Shirou's waist, lifted him bodily as if he weighed no more than a feather, and softly deposited him several feet away. The scene was surreal beyond imagination; Shirou was so shocked he didn't even think to struggle. Even Shinji fell silent.

Then the giant turned back to Rin, and she was reminded that she really, really should have run away. The creature raised its arm...

And something long, silver, and sharp slammed home, impaling it through the chest.

"Get back, Rin!" Archer commanded, firing his next projection. The first had not hit the heart, it wouldn't have taken a life, but it at had at least pierced the skin and gotten the monster's attention. The next shot might... be batted aside uselessly. Ah, well, he'd known this wouldn't be easy. Saber rushed past him, to place herself between Berserker and her own Master, holding her sword at the ready and staring upon the Destroyer with no fear.

Archer was confused by that. His eyes had seen things very well before he'd found a good position to attack, and he'd seen the way Berserker had been behaving around Shirou. Despite several opportunities, the giant Servant had not killed the boy. Why not? It was not as though he couldn't imagine Ilya sparing him... she had done so in his own life, after all. But it had been after they'd bonded somewhat. She'd seen him dive in front of Saber on that first night, and been so shaken by his selflessness that she had become interested and...

Wait.

First night. Shirou's... his... first night of the War, Berserker had not attacked!

He had not been entirely lying to Rin when he said his memories were clouded, though more by time and trauma than by anything she had done. He forgot the subtle things, the nuances... he remembered the War, the events, he just forgot how those things had made him feel. He could recall Saber's smile, just not the way he'd felt when he saw it. He remembered Rin blushing because he'd said something foolishly noble, just not how flustered that had made him in turn. All of the events were still there, but for all the emotional impact they had on him, he might as well have been watching a movie of someone else's life. All it did was make him feel even more bitter, like even the tiniest little joys were lost to him now.

But he remembered the events just fine. He remembered leaving the Church, though he couldn't recall why he'd been so rattled by Kotomine's pretentious yammering. He recalled the black giant and the white princess on the hill, though he could not remember the taste of the fear he'd felt at the sight. He could see the silver knight bleeding in the streetlights in his mind's eye and knew he had dived to save her, even though he couldn't recall why he'd felt the need to do so. And then so much blood...

How could he have not noticed when such a major event didn't occur? How could he have been so preoccupied with thoughts of the War and his real objective that he hadn't even considered the simple fact that _Berserker had not attacked_! So early, and yet this timeline had already shifted from what he remembered... had something happened between the boy and Ilya, without him noticing? This could be a problem, if it meant that girl was now between him and...

" **RRRRRRRAAARRGH**!"

Okay, now probably wasn't the time to worry about it.

He let the arrow fly, watched it dig into the giant's arm as Berserker charged, and projected a new weapon, a two-handed broadsword that gleamed with a sickly red light and projected an almost palpable aura of malice. Kanshou and Bakuya would be basically useless against this thing, so he'd have to dig deeper into his arsenal, pick out the worst of the worst; hitting Berserker was simple. Piercing that skin was the hard part. _Okay... let's get the timing down perfectly, split second..._

Luckily, what Berserker possessed in raw power and speed was made up for by it being generally as dumb as mud. The slash could not have been easier to anticipate, it just came so fast he almost mistimed his dodge anyway and felt a few particularly tall hairs get sliced off. Of course, since he brought his newly projected blade through and slashed out the tendons on the backs of both the giant's legs, he considered that a fair trade. He tossed aside his sword, now useless having pierced the thing's skin even once, and projected a new weapon, a shining golden blade as beautiful as the last weapon had been ominous, and brought it around in a ruthless stab through the thing's spine. _Is that enough for one life? Can't be sure, but even if it is it won't slow him for..._

The monster, his spine severed, somehow managed to twist his body, bringing that horrific axe around so fast Archer could barely even perceive it in time to abandon his stuck blade and project a new weapon for defense. He had no time for anything but Kanshou and Bakuya, and they were...

... useless. The weapons shattered, and Archer was sent flying by the impact, rolling uncontrollably several times before managing to find his feet. Berserker was standing too, Godhand having already repaired the damage to his spine. Archer, on the other hand, was painfully aware from the shooting agony up his left arm that his own wounds were not so well off. _All I did was block, and the arm is broken... your Servant is just as much of a monster as I remember, Ilya_. He thought grimly. "Rin!" He snapped. "I told you to get back!"

"E-eh?" Rin said. "R-right! Hold it here, Archer, and get away as soon as I'm clear!" Rin said, turning to clear the scene. Berserker, his attention thoroughly diverted at this point, did not follow.

Archer raised his remaining arm and projected the heaviest one-handed sword in his arsenal. He had one working arm, his vision was a little blurry, he was fighting Hercules, and the one person he actually wanted to kill was safely under his Servant's watchful eye where Archer couldn't get him without fighting Saber and Berserker two-on-one, suicide by anyone's standards.

Archer smiled. _And yet, still not the worst situation I've ever been in._

* * *

 

Shinji's world was falling apart.

He had been so certain. So secure in his superiority, and in the space of not even twenty minutes, he had been firmly disillusioned. His Servant, that worthless, useless thing, was lying on the ground dying. The monster that had bested her so effortlessly was being faced and even matched by Tohsaka's Servant, just Tohsaka herself had defeated him... he could feel the curse burning in his blood, making his skin pale and his muscles weak. Even Emiya... _Emiya! That nothing that animal that meaningless insect!_... was giving a better accounting than the heir of Makiri!

"Dammit, Rider!" He screamed, his throat beginning to burn from the constant shouts. "Get up! You're a dog, so obey your Master!"

Shocks ran through the near-lifeless thing as she tried to respond despite her inability to do so. She could not stand, but she was compelled to, and the contradiction was tearing her remaining life to tattered threads...

Observing through the eyes of another, the old Magus sighed. _Useless._ Zouken thought. _Ah, well... if he cannot appreciate my gifts, I suppose he does not deserve them. Take it._

Responding to the old man's command, the insect familiar perched on the nearby tree took flight. Shinji watched in confusion as the thing landed on his book; he knew instantly that it was no natural creature, and for a moment was filled with hope that his Grandfather had actually come to his aid.

Then the shiny black beetle began to glow a pale blue, and burst into bluebottle flames that roared across the surface of Shinji's Tome. Screaming in shock and pain, Shinji dropped the book as insect and paper were consumed alike with shocking speed. Rider faded from sight with the disappearance of the Tome, returning to her spirit form to heal... with her other Master.

And Shinji understood that without ever saying a word, his grandfather had just sent him a very, very clear message.

**_Worthless failure._ **

* * *

 

Ilya watched the scene with satisfaction. Rider was down, and she had been the major concern. The boy was, safe, but... well, she should probably hunt Rin down too. Her Archer was confusing, and had openly tried to take onii-chan's life. Since he was strong and could wound Berserker, it was best to get rid of him right now, and then make sure his impressive summoner had no chance to make another contract. And the Makiri thing was still worth destroying, even without his ridiculous fake Command Seal. And... maybe onii-chan would be safer if she knocked him out of the war completely? Then maybe after she dealt with everyone else, she could send Berserker to remove Saber as well. Then Ilya could handle the boy's protection full-time, which would also give her plenty of time to study him. Yes, that made sense, she would...

Hearing something scuttling near her ankles, Ilya looked down to see, just for a second, something black and multi-limbed, a spider or some kind of insect. Casting her gaze around the small clearing she stood in, she saw many tiny shapes climbing along trees and buzzing through the air. _Ah... so, another spectator._

"You know," She said to the night air in a tone far more mature than her appearance suggested, "I have not used a single Command Spell in this War. Berserker can be by my side with a thought. Attacking me would be unwise."

"You misunderstand my intentions, dear child." Said a voice that oozed poison. Zouken Makiri seemed to simply appear from the shadows, as if the night itself... or perhaps the rapidly growing swarm of insects within it... had simply brought him into existence on the spot. "I merely wished to gain your attention."

"What do you want here, worm?" She asked coldly. She knew, instinctively, that this thing was her enemy. Every memory she possessed from her illustrious forebears told her this; that she was not to trust it. That she should not touch it. That if the chance to kill it presented itself, that chance should be taken without hesitation because it was no longer a thing that belonged in this world. _But that chance is not now_. Ilya thought to the memories flooding through her unbidden. _He would not have appeared before me if he did not have some escape route._

She prepared a Command Seal anyway, just in case. If he made any hostile move, Berserker would be by her side before the first worm opened its vile, sucking mouth. She imagined it would look a bit like stuffing maggots into a blender, when Hercules was through with him...

Zouken chuckled. "Such an imperious princess! Befitting the child of Einzbern."

"Answer the question."

Zouken chuckled again, seemingly amused by the ice in her tone. "Patience, doll, patience. Can not an old man care for his grandson? His Servant has been bested, and I do not wish to see him die."

"You are the one who destroyed his weapon."

"Just because he did not deserve the gifts I gave him does not mean I wish him dead. Just safely back at home where he can no longer embarrass me," Zouken said, almost warmly.

"Then you should not have given him a Servant in the first place. Anyone can tell he does not have the makings of a Master. You had to know his death was the most likely outcome of allowing him entry into the Holy Grail War." Ilya retorted.

"True. I had hoped the conflict would bring out some value in the boy, but all it did was definitively confirm what I'd already thought: he is altogether worthless, even more worthless than his father. Our family tree is rotten within, and each new generation is less than the one before." Zouken agreed. "Coming to this land was a mistake, at least for the clan."

"And for yourself? You know as well as I that Makiri has always been of less concern to you than your own ambitions. Even when you were a man..." Ilya said.

Zouken's smile only grew. "HA! My, my... your appearance had me a bit fooled. There's more of her in you than I thought, little puppet. Very well, then... let us say perhaps that Shinji is of some value to my ambitions, despite his utter lack of value to anything else. Would that make you more willing to believe that I wish him spared?"

"... That does sound a bit more like you." Ilya said. "I simply fail to see why that means I should spare his life."

"Why, because you have no choice." Zouken said amicably. "As you noted, I cannot defeat your Servant, but I can force you to call him to your side for protection. In that case, Shinji will have ample time to escape. So would it not be simpler for everyone if you just returned to your castle, content with the night's achievements? Shinji is no longer any threat, and Tohsaka herself is in retreat from your display of power! Let us call this battle of the Holy Grail War your victory, and let it end here."

Ilya considered this. For starters, it couldn't really be called a victory. Rider was dying, but not dead; the Servant had disappeared, but Ilya had not felt the Servant's spirit enter her. Archer was wounded, and Rin Tohsaka was in retreat, but neither was out of the fight. Still, Shirou Emiya had survived, and that had been her primary goal. "Very well. I will order Berserker to stop his attack." She agreed, and even as she spoke the words, the black giant abandoned his assault in the field below, leaving the wounded Archer and disappearing from sight to begin his astral journey to her side. Archer halted for a moment, staring at the boy and Saber, as if considering his options... and then vanished as well, seemingly deciding that he was not confident in his chances.

The Makiri was, as always, meaningless. He slithered off into the darkness, most likely to some very interesting nightmares.

"My thanks, lady of Einzbern." Zouken said.

"Don't thank me for a thing you left me no choice but to do." Ilya snapped.

"Ah... you have more bite to you than the last few models. Well, that's an interesting design choice, but not a bad one." Zouken chuckled. "Farewell, child."

As the old Magus began to disappear back into the cloud of fluttering and crawling things that blanketed the darkness outside Ilya's field of vision, he paused one final time. "Oh... and was it merely my imagination, or were you defending the heir of Emiya? Quite passionately, in fact? An odd choice for the Einzbern Master."

"I don't see how that is your business." Ilya said coldly.

"Of course, of course." Zouken said, once again with that infuriating dry chuckle. "Still... I suppose that could work out well, in the end. We shall meet again, daughter of Einzbern, I have little doubt of that..."

He walked into the darkness, and was gone.

Ilya shuddered. _Berserker, take me home._

She hoped Sella or Leysritt had thought to draw her a hot bath. After speaking with that walking plague she felt the overwhelming urge to jump into scalding hot water and scrub the top layer of her skin off...

* * *

 

Rin was deeply, deeply confused.

Emiya had saved her life. Again. So now she owed him. Again.

 _Owe him? HA! What on Earth could I give him that he doesn't already have?_ Rin thought bitterly, her fear and anger overwhelming her sense of fair exchange, for the moment. Because for once, the thought of having her life saved was by far her secondary concern compared to the implications of what else had happened.

He had saved her from Berserker. Not by actually helping, but because Berserker had _refused to attack him_. And the only reason Berserker would refuse to kill anyone would be because his Master had ordered him not to. Hell, given the track record for Masters of Berserker, usually not even then! This Berserker was incredibly powerful, and yet shockingly obedient, meaning his unknown Master had to be... Rin hated to admit it, but whoever had drawn the Berserker card for this War certainly outranked her in raw power, at the very least. And Emiya had... somehow... managed to forge a partnership with this person.

 _How? How did he do it? How could he have made an alliance like that so quickly?_ She thought desperately. _He didn't even know what this War **was** two days ago, and now he's already made a move that almost guarantees him one of the final two spots?_ He wouldn't win the Grail, of course, not with that thing as his final opponent, but... God, of course, he didn't even _want_ the Holy Grail, he'd said so himself! Had he just gone to the most powerful Master he could locate and said, 'I'll help you win if you help me protect innocent people'? Or perhaps he did want the Grail after all, and he felt Saber's Noble Phantasm would be enough to overcome Berserker if needed?

It didn't really matter. What mattered was that Saber, the most skilled close combat Servant, and Berserker, the Servant with the highest raw power, were somehow on the same side. A virtually invincible team.

"Rin." Archer asked, appearing beside her, and easily matching her pace despite the arm still hanging limply at his side. "Are you all right?"

"No." She said, anger and humiliation at the thought of being outdone so quickly and so thoroughly by such an amateur making her voice tight. "No, I'm really, really not."

* * *

 

Saber was deeply, deeply confused.

"Shirou... what happened here?"

Shirou considered it. First that monster had saved him for no reason. Then he had felt his body improve enough to allow movement and had no idea why. Then he had leapt in to save Tohsaka... and the monster had spared him again, still for no reason he could see. And finally, when it was clear the thing had an overwhelming advantage, it had simply retreated.

Shirou blinked a few times, and said, "I have no idea."


	7. Chance Encounters

Kirei Kotomine sat in the darkness, looking over his sermon for yesterday to see if he should have changed anything, and beginning an appropriate one for next week's mass. It was late, but he generally slept only an hour or two a day, so he'd decided to get a bit of work done while waiting for his scout to return.

He was, despite what Rin might have said to the contrary, a genuine and ordained priest. Not the sort of priest one would typically expect to deliver a Sunday mass, admittedly; yet deliver them he did, each week. The congregation for this church was small, but it did exist and he had to keep up appearances for his flock. Granted, he did not actually believe any of the love and forgiveness talk he preached to them, but this was, after all, organized religion. People came in _expecting_ to be lied to, _demanding_ they be told falsehoods. And truthfully, the ritual of it all was mildly comforting, in a way. Even he was not totally immune to the lure of routine.

The blue knight entered the small in a manner that brought to mind a chained wolf. Deadly, furious, every muscle filled with lethal power and murderous intent, and yet still utterly harmless as long as it was handled with care. Kotomine resisted the urge to laugh.

"Four Servants," Lancer growled. " _Four_. Saber, Rider, Archer, Berserker. Rider went down, might be dead, can't be sure. Berserker and Archer took some wounds, but they're both still in the fight, no doubt about it."

"I am aware of this, as you well know. I see all that you see when you are on these scouting missions, you might recall?" Kotomine said mildly. "And it is fortunate I do, because that report was startlingly detail-sparse."

"Can't talk well. Too hard resisting the urge to tear your spine out, 'my Master'." Lancer said, still sounding for all the world like a snarling hound that had learned to speak.

"Ah. Then you bring up this battle not because you wished to tell me of it, but because you are unhappy I did not allow you to participate, I take it?"

"Four Servants. I might never have a chance at a battle like that ever again." Lancer said. " _And you wouldn't let me join in_!"

"There is no point. The War can be won just as easily by staying to the shadows and letting the other Masters wipe themselves out. I prefer to observe." All of which was technically true; it was a valid strategy, and he'd never said _he_ was using it to win, had he? "And you... don't you want to _win_ this war, Lancer?"

" _No_!" The knight roared. "I want to _fight_ this war! I don't give a damn about the prize, I just want to actually _compete_ for it!"

"Well, then, you should conserve your energy for that possibility rather than venting it on me." Kotomine said mildly. He neglected to mention the minor detail that if things went precisely according to plan, Lancer would most likely never get the chance he craved. The spearman might legitimately make an attempt on his life, then, Command Seal or no. For a moment, looking at the sheer rage and frustration in Cu Chulainn's red eyes, Kotomine wondered if Lancer might be making that attempt regardless.

Finally, after several tense seconds, Lancer said, "Fine. I'll bide my time, for now. But this isn't the last you'll hear of this," And disappeared.

Kotomine, fully aware that the Servant was still in the room, suppressed a chuckle. "Very well, then. Stay here until tonight, I'll see if I can find another assignment for you." There would be nothing, of course. Lancer did need to learn his place to some degree, even if he was in reality only the 'back-up' Servant.

He turned and left the main chapel, walking through a back door and descending the steps into the crypts below the church. Ignoring the soft moans of the half-alive things entombed within, he said to the darkness, "Well? What do you think?"

"Four at once, huh? Sounds a bit like our War. Still, I haven't noticed anything particularly interesting about most of the Servants, or the Masters," Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, Kotomine's true Servant and only real ally replied in that familiar, insolent tone. The Epic Hero's aura of pride and power did not suit the crypts at all, but Kirei doubted he cared.

"I wasn't aware you'd been in a position to do so."

"I've been looking around. Scouting." Gilgamesh said. A polite way of saying 'doing whatever the Hell I feel like', which was, when you got down to it, what he always did. "I found something unusual, but I didn't really feel like killing it, yet. If it starts endangering my subjects, perhaps. Beyond that...

"Well, I have some news that might interest you." Kotomine said. "It appears that the Saber summoned into this war is the same Epic Spirit that filled the role in the previous one. You were fond of her, as I recall?"

"I know, I could already tell that she was back. My blood was screaming it from the moment of her summoning." Gilgamesh said, a mad glint in his eyes. "It's her. Not some copy, the same woman. She's come back to me."

"... you realize, of course, that this is impossible? She must be a copy from the Throne of Heroes, like all Servants."

"I know. But I also _know_ what I feel. It's not some copy. It. Is. _Her._ " Gilgamesh insisted.

Kotomine resisted the urge to laugh once again. Gilgamesh was possibly the closest thing he had to a friend, but he had no illusions that he was _completely_ safe from the King of Heroes' mercurial temper. Saying the wrong thing or showing amusement at the wrong comment would be a good way to end up with an ancient sword shoved down his throat. "And because you know it, it must be true?"

"HA! Yes, yes, you do understand me!" Gilgamesh said with an almost childlike grin. "If I say something is true, then it becomes true. Truth is what I make of it and the rest of the world can try to keep up."

Kotomine shook his head in amusement. "Well, whatever you choose to believe, I suppose. I would, however, prefer you not move on her for the moment. There are some... oddities in the flow of the current conflict. I believe the old Makiri might have been involved."

"Hmmm... Makiri, Makiri. Oh, that's right! The worm mage you told me about, the one who was behind Berserker's Master in our war!" Gilgamesh said. "I can see that being irritating. That Berserker was certainly an annoyance, can't imagine his sponsor being less so."

"Well, all I know for certain is that if he desires something, I desire he not have it." Kotomine said frankly. "I know I can't stop you from getting involved if you really want to, but I would prefer you do not, for the moment."

Gilgamesh shrugged. "I don't mind holding back a little, for now. Though I might change my mind."

"How magnanimous of you."

Gilgamesh smiled. "I'm not really doing it for you, Kirei. I'm doing it for _her_. If I move on her now, then I'll have to go to a lot of effort to keep her alive until the Grail is formed. Better to wait and handle that part later, when I can make her mine quickly.

"Besides, the wait will make it all sweeter when the moment comes."

* * *

 

"Saber, I can walk. Really."

"Nonsense. Supporting you is simply my duty, Master." Saber said firmly, having inserted herself under Shirou's arm in such a manner that he had basically no choice but to lean on her. "I have already failed by allowing you to be wounded, please allow me to do this much."

"You saved my life. Again." Shirou said. "You have nothing to apologize for. And don't call me 'Master'."

"Of course, Master." Saber said.

Shirou sighed in not-quite annoyance. She hadn't done anything wrong, but she seemed to be under the impression she had. She wouldn't even call him 'Shirou'. He wasn't even hurt that badly! Sore, certainly, and it was hard to walk, he admitted. But he _could_ walk. Maybe he'd broken a few ribs, but clearly nothing more than...

_... he tried to move futilely, his limbs jelly, his broken bones and torn muscles sending fresh shocks of agony as they rubbed raw against each other..._

... no, that was wrong. He'd been hurt. Badly.

And he was still hurt, but not nearly as badly. As he was now, he felt as though he'd need first aid and a considerable amount of rest before he felt truly 'good'. Back in the park, after Rider had first wounded him? He'd felt as though he'd never move again.

 _It's not like I'm unhappy, but it's kind of creepy. Like I don't know my own body anymore._ He thought. _And of course, there's plenty of other things I don't know._

Shinji had tried to kill him. He might even be a murderer already.

Tohsaka had... well, he wasn't sure about her, but at the very least, her Servant had made an attempt on his life. She seemed to be going through on her promise to treat him as an enemy.

And then, of course, there was the biggest mystery of the night.

"Saber. What are your thoughts about that giant?" Shirou said.

"Ah, yes." Saber said, seemingly pleased to be providing some help that he wasn't trying to escape from. "I cannot be certain, but I believe that to have been Berserker. At the least, that seems most likely... although I have certain doubts."

 _Berserker, huh?_ Shirou considered this. Tohsaka had explained the classes to him, and Saber had elaborated, but something about it didn't sit quite right.

"I thought you said Berserker was a class that traded sanity for power, so it was usually a weak hero who took on that class. But that creature felt..."

"Yes," Saber agreed. "I do not know what Heroic Spirit that was, but his power was obviously immense. A Heroic Spirit of such natural strength has no need of the Berserker Class's ability boosts and would likely benefit far more from its sanity and Noble Phantasms, so that was my first point of confusion; why call such a great Hero into a position that offers so little advantage? Still, that could be as simple as a summoning error. I am more confused by..."

"Why he let me live?" Shirou finished for her.

"Indeed. Not merely spared you, but actively tried to protect you," Saber said. "Berserker is difficult to control, regardless of Master. To order it to do anything but kill all in its path is an arduous task. And yet, only its Master's command could have held it back in such a manner. So Berserker is under the control of an extremely powerful Magus who also seeks to preserve your life. Shirou, is it possible that Berserker's Master is someone you know? Someone who would wish to protect you?"

"I... suppose it's not impossible." Shirou admitted. "I don't think I know anyone who could control that creature, but then, if you'd asked me a few days ago, I would have told you that there was no way Tohsaka could be a great Magus. And if she was hiding it from me, who's to say someone else wasn't?"

But who, really? He didn't actually have that many close friends, to be frank. Who would be trying to save his life?

Issei? Potentially. Shinji had said something about 'that witch on the mountain', and the only location of interest on a mountain in these parts was Ryudou Temple. Even if he wasn't the Master, he might know something.

Sakura? If Shinji was involved, he couldn't discount the possibility she was too. He hoped not, though... she didn't really have the personality for something like this. There had to be some way to find out without worrying her. Perhaps he could find Shinji and force admission out of him?

Fuji-nee? He tried, for a moment, to picture Taiga Fujimura hiding the fact that she was a Magus from the whole world. Or really, keeping any secret at all from anyone.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Shirou laughed suddenly, stopping only to hold his aching ribs.

"S-Shirou?" Saber inquired. "Did... did you hit your head, or...?"

"N-no... I just thought of something so impossible that it made me laugh, is all." Shirou said, wiping tears of mirth (and pain) from his eyes. "Th-though I guess Berserker would fit her personality! HAHAHAHAHA! Ow! Oh, ouch thaHAHAHAHAt hurts!"

Saber sighed. "Perhaps you need rest more than I thought..."

It was close to three A.M. before the pair finally reached the Emiya household. Shirou directed Saber to the guest room and said, "Well, you remember the way to the guest room. Sorry about the 'crowd' in there. Try to get some rest, I have something I need to ask you in the morning." He then began to limp towards his own quarters, intent on wringing what sleep he could from the night.

Saber followed him.

"Um... Saber?"

"Yes, Shirou?" Saber asked as though nothing at all were out of the ordinary.

"Why aren't you staying in your room?"

"Oh. You wished me to sleep in that bedroom with Sakura and Taiga? I wondered why you brought it up." Saber said calmly.

Shirou blinked a few times. Where did she think she was sleeping? "Well, anyway, that's the guest room, so it makes sense for you to sleep..."

"No."

"... eh?"

"Before this evening, I might have considered it," Saber said calmly. "But after seeing Archer's skill with projectiles, it will not be acceptable. The boundary field around this house is effective as a warning system, but with an enemy who can target the house from such a distance acting against us, I'm afraid that I must be by your side to intercept attacks at all times."

"I'm sorry, but it sounds like you're asking to sleep..."

"In your room, yes. Preferably in your bed." Saber said matter-of-factly.

Shirou considered this for a moment. Well, to say 'considered' is a bit of a lie, because at that moment the very idea of that being a possibility tore into his mind like a power drill and briefly made thought totally impossible.

Once his brain started working again, Shirou began considering the situation for real this time.

 _No... no, of course that isn't acceptable. If I'm hurt, I need to rest, of course. And if Saber is in the room, I certainly won't get a wink of sleep, that's obvious. She might say things like 'she's my sword' and 'she has to protect me', but when you get down to it Saber is an attractive girl and I can't relax if she's too close by. Maybe it sounds stupid, but it's the simple truth and I'll just have to calmly explain that to her_. Shirou thought.

"N-no! No, that's not... it's dangerous to have you in there!" Shirou said.

It bears mentioning at this point that Shirou's brain and Shirou's mouth were not always in perfect sync.

"No... just the opposite. It will be dangerous if I am not by your side to intercept incoming arrows." Saber said in confusion. "Shirou, I am aware you said the majority of the impact was to your abdomen, but are you certain Rider did not strike you in the head...?"

"It's... you're! Girl! Room!" Shirou said.

"... what?" Saber said, blinking in rapidly growing befuddlement. "Shirou, you are making no sense. It is becoming apparent we both need rest. You, perhaps, more than myself. So, let us go to bed."

"Yes! But not to the same bed!"

"... why not?"

"Because you're a girl! I won't get any sleep if you're in the room, believe me!"

" _What_? Shirou, I am a Servant before I am a woman! Sleeping with me in your bed is no different than sleeping with your sword in easy reach, mere common sense during times of danger!"

 _A sword isn't all... warm and soft and nice-smelling_! Shirou thought. Out loud he said, "Do I have to use a Command Seal? I will if you make me!"

"You cannot possibly be serious."

"Look, there's a room right next to mine. You can stay there. That should be close enough, right?"

"Not even remotely! If you are under sniper fire, even a fraction of a second could be vital!"

"Well... I'm willing to take that risk." Shirou said, stepping into his room and slamming the door in her face.

"You are _deranged_!" Saber snapped through the closed door.

Shirou recognized that he had, perhaps, really pissed Saber off. But as he collapsed into his futon and darkness overtook him almost instantly, he found he was far too tired to care.

He slept, dreamless, until morning.

* * *

 

Rin Tohsaka lay in her bed, staring up with sleep nowhere in sight.

The night's event had turned the world against her in a big, brutal way, and she wasn't remotely sure how to deal with it. Saber and Berserker, Berserker and Saber... no matter how she wrapped her mind around it, her only option for overcoming that was to seek help. Archer, as surprisingly multi-talented as he had proven to be (Projection? It had to be projection, no one Servant could have that many Noble Phantasms. But Projection magic couldn't... argh, she'd think more on it when she could think of something other than how screwed she was), was simply no match for the two of them at once. She would need a partner.

But that was where things fell apart, wasn't it? Rider might be dead, and in any event she would not ally herself with Shinji after he'd had the temerity to steal souls in her city. She didn't know Lancer's Master and had no idea how to find him. Archer seemed to have an idea concerning Caster's identity, but _both_ of the above applied to Caster.

So where exactly was she supposed to get this ally she needed so desperately?

What. Was. She. Supposed. To. _Do_?

Outside her room, Archer was equally confused. Something had definitely changed... Ilya should not have been making an effort to defend Shirou Emiya, not this soon. This threw his entire plan into unknown territory. He understood as well as Rin that he was no match for those two Servants at once; even one at a time would be a serious threat.

And more than that, he wouldn't harm Ilya. He would not. There were few things even he simply wouldn't do, and that was one. So if it came to a situation where he had to harm her to get to Shirou...

He wasn't supposed to be this confused. He'd thought he had grown past these feelings a long, long time ago.

There was not much sleep at the Tohsaka Manor that night.

* * *

 

Shirou rolled over in his futon, moaning softly. _Ummm... three hours might not have been enough. Maybe I should skip school...?_

"You said there was something you wished to speak to me about? It is morning." A calm feminine voice said by his head.

There are good ways and bad ways to wake up in the morning. For most men, finding Saber in their room would be a very good way. Shirou just happened to be the sort to panic because of it.

After a fairly mild heart attack, Shirou and Saber went to the kitchen. Shirou was getting the impression that, perhaps, he should have been a bit more considerate of Saber's feelings. For one thing, he was firmly under the impression that she had awoken him in the manner she had simply because she was angry at him. And that now, she was quite firmly sticking as uncomfortably close to him as she could because he had asked her to keep some distance.

In short, he was discovering that despite her typically calm, elegant demeanor, Saber could hold a grudge surprisingly well.

The prospect of breakfast seemed to cheer her up, though. And to make matters even better, Sakura woke up right on time to ensure that breakfast was up to her exacting standards. And best of all, Fuji-nee never showed up at all, and left the house without a word for some reason! He didn't know why (who knew why Fuji-nee did anything that Fuji-nee did?) but it made things easier.

"So... Sakura." Shirou said as the two of them cleaned the last bowls of German potato salad (He had absolutely not prepared a Western dish with breakfast to appease Saber. He definitely hadn't done that. Not at all. He was not intimidated by her or feeling guilty in any way.) "I need you to... um... do something for me."

"Hmmm?" The younger girl asked, turning from the dishes she was cleaning to stare curiously in his direction.

"... ... I'm not going to school today. Could you please let Fuji-nee know?"

"Eh? Senpai, what do you mean?" Sakura asked. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "... I've noticed that you seem a bit stiff this morning. Did... did something happen last night? Are you hurt?"

"Eh? No, I just came down with something," Shirou said soothingly. He hated to lie to her, but it wasn't as though he could tell her what had actually...

 _Oh. Oh, that's right. What actually happened_. He thought. "Sakura... speaking of hurt... there's something I need to ask you. Come back to the house after school today. Don't go to your home." Shirou said firmly. "I'd prefer you not go anywhere near Shinji for awhile, okay? You can move into the guest wing here like you did last night."

"Wh-what...? S-senpai, I... well, I don't... um..." Sakura said, blushing very, very obviously. Poor thing, she must be embarassed at the thought of intruding on his life even more, but he had to be firm with her.

"Sakura." It wasn't just Shinji, that he might have been willing to let her stay with. He knew well that Shinji could be... rough with her. It was the major reason he and Shinji weren't really friends anymore; they'd clashed more than once over strange bruises Shirou had found on Sakura's arms or neck. He did not like the thought of her spending time with Shinji, but they were family; Shirou didn't think that Shinji would do anything _too_ bad, normally. But now this War was getting in the way; Shinji was clearly unhinged, and to make matters worse Tohsaka knew he was a Master and would be hunting him down. Shirou knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't let Sakura get into the line of fire between those two. She'd be in danger with him as well, but if she was going to be in danger no matter where she went, he could at least make sure she was in danger where he (and by extension, Saber) was watching her. "Look, there's some things going on, Shinji's been acting... strangely. I'd feel better if I could keep an eye on you, all right? At least until he calms down. So if you can, come back to the house after school. And let Fuji-nee know I'm calling in sick when you see her."

Sakura was torn. On the one hand... nii-san would be furious if she did this. And she didn't like the thought of going to school leaving senpai alone with Saber for a whole day, particularly after it was becoming more and more clear to her that Saber had gotten him hurt somehow, last night. It couldn't be too bad, he was moving around easily enough, but there was a stiffness to his movements that she could pick out.

She... oh, it had something to do with nii-san, it had to, that's why he was acting so strangely. She had felt Rider return to her control, felt how pained the Servant was. She could feel her own mana draining away far too rapidly as her Servant involuntarily drew in more and more to attempt to heal herself; it was getting harder and harder to pretend nothing was wrong, but she could last a bit longer. Senpai was hurt... Rider was nearly dead... she could add two and two together. Nii-san and senpai had fought, and neither had come out unscathed, one of the very few situations she had wanted to avoid more than anything else. Rider would survive, though... and nii-san would take her back, and they'd fight again, and this time one of them might... might...

She couldn't even think of it. Not for the first time, she cursed this entire pointless War.

But through all of this panic, one thing shone through. _Senpai wants me to stay with him. He asked me himself to stay at his house! Not Fujimura-sensei, he asked me **personally**! We'll... we'll be together all the time..._

The little surge of glee made her feel a bit guilty, yes... to think of herself at a time like this! But she couldn't crush it no matter how she tried.

Sakura smiled softly. "... all right, senpai. That... sounds nice."

After seeing Sakura off, Shirou turned to Saber. "All right. Now... about what I needed to say to you."

"If this concerns our sleeping arrangements..." Saber said, that stubborn light leaping to her eyes.

"Nothing like that." Shirou said, taking a deep breath. "All right, it's like this. I was useless last night. Rider manhandled me, and when that giant showed up all I could do was... nothing. I was helpless. Totally helpless."

Saber's expression softened. "I have told you before, that was my fault. You are only human, Shirou, you have no hope against a Servant as you are now. Dealing with that aspect of the War is for me alone."

"No. Not as I am. So I want you to make me better. Please... teach me how to fight, Saber!" He pleaded, bowing to her as he said it. " I know I'll never be able to beat a Servant by myself, but maybe with your help, I can at least survive without you for a little bit!"

Saber blinked a few times, taken briefly off-guard by the sincerity in his tone. Finally, she smiled very slightly. "... very well. We won't have much time, but if nothing else, perhaps we can get your body used to fighting a Servant. Any strength we can give you will be helpful, I suppose."

Shirou smiled. "Thank you! I swear, I'll be the best pupil you've ever had!"

Saber nodded. "I have no doubt of that, Shirou. None at all."

"Thank you, again." Shirou said warmly. "I promise, I won't disappoint you."

"I will hold you to that." Saber said, almost playfully. "Now, we have eaten, so it would be best to start immediately. Since it is your first lesson, I will go somewhat easy on you, but understand that for this to be of value I must be vicious in my strikes. You must be prepared to train as if your life is on the line."

Shirou smiled even more widely. "Bring it on, sensei. I can take whatever you can dish out!"

**Four Hours Later...**

Shirou gasped for breath, a mass of bruises and sweat. His every move was pain. He could barely breathe.

"Would you like to continue?" Saber asked mildly, still clutching the shinai she had been using to beat the crap out of him.

"... maybe... we... should... stop... for... lunch."

"That would be acceptable, yes."

* * *

 

Shirou sighed as he made the long, somewhat painful walk to the store to pick up lunch ingredients. Now that he didn't have shinai repeatedly slamming into his skull, he could think a bit about his situation, and it wasn't good. Shinji, Sakura, Tohsaka... the Holy Grail War was a huge pain in general.

Had he made the right decision asking Sakura to stay at his house? He wasn't sure, really. The problem was that the only person he could think of to really talk to about both Sakura and magic was Tohsaka, and she... well, he had to believe she wouldn't be talking to him freely at this point.

_Ugh, what should I do? This whole mess is just ridiculously complicated, and it's only going to get worse. It seems like every time I turn around, some new problem is running right at m-_

"Onii-chaaaan!" Said a delighted musical tone from behind him, and rapidly getting closer. He turned to see a tiny white-and-purple rocket speeding toward him, skidding to a stop just in front of him. After the brief surprise had faded, he found himself smiling warmly at a semi-familiar face, seen in good light for the first time.

"Oh, hi! You're the ojou-chan from the other night, right? Nice to see you again! How weird that we ran into each other twice like this..." He said.

"Er... yeah!" the girl said. She chose not to mention, at this point, that they hadn't actually 'run into each other', she had been following him since he'd left his house, working up the courage to try talking to him. He was so adorably unable to sense anything at all...

"Did you find your family okay? They came to get you?"

"Erm... yes! My guardians came to pick me up, so thank you for helping me!" The little girl said, smiling cheerfully.

"I'm glad to hear it," Shirou said, feeling an answering smile come to his own face almost instinctively. "And I'm sorry if I was annoying to you or anything like that. I just didn't think I should leave you alone. I'm glad you're okay."

"Oh, um..." The girl said, blushing slightly. "No. I didn't mind... it made me happy, actually. You were much nicer than I thought you'd be."

Shirou blinked in confusion. _Nicer than she thought I'd... ooooooh. Heh, I get it..._ He glared in mock-anger. "I don't look _that_ scary, do I?"

"Hee, hee... I don't think you look scary at all!" the girl said. "A bit simple, maybe, but that suits you."

"... ... ..." _Was... was that a compliment or..._

"Um... my name is Ilyasviel! We didn't talk a lot the other night, so I never told you that..." The girl... Ilyasviel... said. "I'm not from this country, I'm visiting with some... relatives."

"Ah... then it's even worse for you to be wandering alone." Shirou chastised her. "It's dangerous these days, even if you know the town. You shouldn't be out by yourself... even during the daytime, to be honest. And yet, here you are again, all alone."

"I'm not alone." Ilyasviel said, frowning. "You're here. You'll keep me safe... won't you?"

Shirou felt the attack like a punch in the gut. Really, he barely knew the girl, yet she was showing such trust in him it was a bit embarrassing. "Oh. Um... thank you. I mean... yes, of course, if you're near me I'll protect you, yes. But... I thought you said you were only going to trust me one time."

"I did, and you were nice. So I decided to trust you again." Ilya said, her tone indicating she was educating a particularly stupid child. "And what exactly are you waiting for?"

"Eh?" Shirou asked. Honestly, following this girl's train of thought was a bit like working his way through a maze blindfolded.

"Your name. I told you mine, so it's rude not to tell me yours, Onii-chan."

"OH! Sorry, um... Shirou. Shirou Emiya."

"Shiroushirouemiya?" The girl asked. "Hmmmm... that sounds a bit weird."

"... Just Shirou will do."

"Um... okay! I like that much better!" The girl said, seeming inordinately pleased with this response. "I didn't mind the thought of you having a long name like me, but a simple, pretty name suits you. 'Shirou'... yeah, I like that a lot! So you be Shirou, and you can call me Ilya if you want!"

Shirou couldn't help but shake his head in bemusement at the girl's quicksilver personality. It seemed next-to-no stimulus was required to catapult her from irritable to happy to embarrassed to any other emotion he could name. Frankly it was... well, just cute. "Sure. Ilya it is, then."

"Hee, hee..." The girl giggled, blushing slightly again. "Well, come on, onii-chan! Let's go, let's go!"

"Er... where?"

"What do you mean 'where'?" Ilya asked in confusion. "I don't really care where we go. I just want to spend the day with you."

... _huh_? Shirou thought.

"... huh?" Shirou said.

Sometimes, his brain and mouth _were_ in sync.

Ilya narrowed her eyes in irritation. "What, did you think I went to all this trouble to meet you again just to say hello?"

Shirou blinked in confusion. "Wait, all this trouble to meet me aga-"

"I was interested in you after you helped me, so I wanted to spend time with you, onii-chan." Ilya interrupted before he could finish the thought. "And I'm a visitor to this country, so I thought you could show me around this town."

"Um... look, Ilya, I'm happy to see you again, but I need to get..."

"U-unless... you don't want to spend the day with me..." Ilya said. Suddenly, she looked very, very small. "I... well, I guess if you really don't like me, I understand if you just leave..."

 _Oh. Oh, that's just not fair_. Shirou thought numbly. All that exuberance just drained out of her in a heartbeat to be replaced with what a sort of nervous resignation that just did not suit the girl. He wasn't sure why, but she seemed really, genuinely afraid that he was going to leave her here. They barely knew each other, but she seemed to be pinning a ridiculous amount of hope on the thought that he would accept her.

_This is ridiculous. Saber is waiting at home, I'm already skipping school... I'm supposed to be training. I'm supposed to be getting stronger. This is a war, and I have to win it, don't I?_

_But..._

But looking at that girl, standing alone in a strange town, mingled fear, disappointment and just a hint of hope that refused to quite fade in her eyes... he didn't know why his acceptance meant so much to her, but it clearly did. It meant the world to this girl that he not turn her away. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but he knew, deep in his heart...  
_  
... if I leave her like this, I'll be breaking something irreplaceable._

Saber could wait a bit... it wasn't like one late lunch would kill her, right? For the moment, he smiled and held his hand out to Ilya, just as he'd done on the night they first met. "You know what? Sure. I have about an hour free. There isn't much to see, but I can give you a little tour of my neighborhood if you want."

The brief moment of shock at his acceptance, followed by the practical flood of joy into the girl's eyes as she latched onto his arm like a vice clamp, convinced Shirou that he had made the correct decision.

Rin wasn't surprised to find Emiya not attending school. Not like he had any reason to, and he couldn't bring Saber with him. Best for him to stay where his ally and his Servant could watch over him at all times.

She likewise was not surprised to find Shinji wasn't at school. She'd put some decent effort into that curse. She hoped he was feeling really, really miserable.

Frankly, Rin wasn't sure why _she_ was at school. To check out that stubborn boundary field, she supposed. It had not grown any stronger since her last check-in; one more sign that Rider had been responsible. The violet haired Servant from last night would certainly be in no position to strengthen her boundary field at the moment, that was obvious. Still, the fact that it still existed told Rin that the Servant was probably still alive, so it was still a threat. And she doubted Shinji would be coming to school any time soon, not without his Servant for protection. Not with her there.

It made her a bit happy to think of him afraid of her, she could admit that. Really, _someone_ ought to be afraid of her.

She wasn't sure what had brought her to the first-year's hall, really. Looking for mana points on the boundary field? She couldn't really detect them through the thick aura of the field's magic. More likely she was just wandering to clear her thoughts after all the upsets to her world that had hit the last few days. But whatever the case, she was there, when she had no real reason to be.

It was a small change. But enough.

She turned the corner, to see a plum-haired girl, sweating, pale, all alone and clearly struggling to stand, propped against a locker.

Sakura Matou gasped for breath, her chest burning, her vision blurring. She had overestimated herself, underestimated how much mana Rider would need... whatever the case, something had gone wrong. The dizziness had come on so suddenly, she could barely even...

"Sakura? Um... are you okay?" Rin asked softly. She knew she wasn't supposed to care, but...

"O-oh!" Sakura said, shooting upright. "T-Tohsaka-senpai! I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't hear you! I was just... just a bit tired, and..."

"You look like Hell." Rin said frankly, concerned in spite of herself. "You should head to the nurse's office if you're sick. Do you want me to walk you there?"

"No! No, it's nothing like that, really!" Sakura said quickly. And it wasn't, really; this had been a momentary problem. The dizziness was already mostly gone, and she didn't want to worry anyone and... and...

_... and if the nurse says I'm sick, Fujimura-sensei might make me go to my own house for the night._

"It was... I'm fine, really. Th-thank you for worrying, though. I do appreciate it." Sakura said with a fragile smile, turning and walking away from the older girl as fast as her unsteady legs could carry her.

Rin watched her go with a confused expression. Something was up there, she knew it. Maybe she should keep a closer eye on Sakura for a few days? She... her training said 'no'. She had enough to worry about as it was. But... well... she could always justify it by saying that any Matou was worth watching if Shinji was a Master, couldn't she?

Yes. Yes, that was acceptable.

And although she didn't know it at the time, this decision... made in the heat of the moment, when she wasn't quite in her right mind anyway... would have a tremendous impact on the Holy Grail War for Rin and Sakura alike.

Sometimes, small changes will do that.

Shirou walked down the streets, the girl on his arm expressing borderline-amazement at just about everything.

They progressed like that for awhile... Ilya was shockingly attached to him, with no prodding at all. It seemed no matter what he showed her in their little 'sightseeing tour', she was enraptured... even simple things, like the little store he bought most of his groceries at, or the park near his house. She just happily latched onto his arm and followed it all. And she wanted to see everything, so he obliged. Forget 'new to Japan'... he was beginning to wonder if she'd ever been outside her house, considering how she reacted to every little thing. Still...

 _... you know, maybe it's silly, but I feel a lot less worried about this whole situation. Just being around someone so cheerful is making me feel better_. He thought, smiling fondly at the exuberant girl. She had a small red stain on her lips from some taiyaki he'd bought her... she had gulped down the snack so enthusiastically he was surprised her whole face wasn't covered.

He heard some harsh whispering behind him, and turned to see two women standing close together, glancing at him occasionally and exchanging words. He wondered, vaguely, what they were...

"Maybe they're talking because we look like we're on a date." Ilya giggled, nuzzling closer to him from her perpetual grip on his arm.

 _Heh, she's more observant than I gave her credit for. Still, what a ridiculous thing to say. Just like a kid_. He smiled fondly down at the girl hanging off him and began to voice as much, getting out, "Oh, come on, Ilya, that's..." before something very, very unpleasant occurred to him.

_Oh **Hell** , she's not wrong!_

When he thought about it logically, Ilya was a foreigner, so they didn't look like relatives. Between their age difference and her general clinginess, they didn't really look like friends. Considering it from the perspective of someone looking on from the outside... crap, he totally did look like he was on a date with a little girl!

_And that's just ridiculous! I wouldn't do that, that's a crime, and further I wouldn't be..._

...

Showing her around town. Taking her to various places and enjoying her enjoyment of them. Buying her little gifts just to see her smile.

_Shit, I **am** on a date with a little girl! How the Hell did that happen?_

"Er... Ilya, I don't mind walking around with you, but I think maybe you should let go of my arm..."

"No." Ilya said with a cheerful smile.

"Um... look, it's not that I have a problem with you being affectionate, but I do have a problem with going to prison, and..."

Ilya looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "So you're saying you want me to leave?" She asked, her tone icy cold.

"No! Not at all, I'm having a lot of fun, really! Just... er... don't stand quite so close, is all, before all of my neighbors start to think I'm doing something illegal..." Shirou said, feeling his face rapidly reddening. Between Ilya's obvious disapproval and the increasingly obvious stares of everyone around them in the street, he was starting to feel a growing pressure in the atmosphere, like all of his potential options ended in death...

The girl sighed in annoyance. "Well... you're warm, so I don't really want to, but I guess I can do you this favor. But you owe me!" She said, finally breaking her grip.

Shirou felt a tingling in his hand, and realized it had fallen asleep. She hadn't been clasped on too tightly, so how long exactly had she been clamped on his arm...?

The sun was in the wrong place in the sky.

He checked his watch, and his face went deathly pale.

"O-onii-chan?" Ilya asked in sudden confusion. He looked really sick. "Shirou, are you okay?"

"I've been walking you around town for six hours?" He said in disbelief. _Oh... oh God, school is over... Fuji-nee and Sakura might already be at the house! After I told them I was going to spend the day at home... if they get to the house and I'm not there...!_

_... ... ... ... I didn't bring Saber lunch._

"Ilya, I need to go, I'm sorry! I need to get home right now, before..." Shirou babbled in supreme panic. He was dead, he was so dead if...

A small hand gripped his shirt firmly. "You... you're leaving me all alone? I was having so much fun with you, onii-chan..." Ilya said, that familiar sadness coming back to her eyes.

... ... _oh, come on_. He thought in exasperation as her sadness struck him right in the soul. "... I had a lot of fun too, really. But I need to go home. And I'm sure your relatives are worried about you, aren't they?"

Ilya considered this. She had snuck out past Sella and Leysritt, so... "Yes, they probably are." She admitted glumly.

"... how's this? Remember that little park we saw before?" He asked. "How about tomorrow I meet you there? Around lunch time, like today. Not for as long as today, but we can talk a little more."

The girl fairly well glowed at that. "You mean it? Really?"

"Of course."

Ilya smiled brilliantly. "Okay! I know you won't lie, so... even though I shouldn't, I'll definitely sneak out to see you again!"

"Um... well, you shouldn't sneak out, if..." Shirou began, wondering just exactly what he'd just encouraged Ilya to do.

"I'll see you tomorrow, onii-chan! Byeeeeee!" The girl screamed happily as she took off into the distance, waving over her shoulder.

Shirou, as firmly aware as he was that when he got home he was _so_ dead... couldn't help but smile one more time.


	8. Nightmare

Shirou sprinted towards the house. "I'm not late!" He said.

There was nobody to hear him, but perhaps if he said it often and loud enough, it would come true. Magic happened, right?

"I'm not late!"

This was pointless. There was no reason to run; it didn't matter how quickly he arrived now. Saber would be furious. He had promised her he would be back shortly, and then gone on to spend the entire day out of the house. Not only out of the house, but walking around with a girl he didn't even know. And what excuse did he have? 'I'm sorry, I just couldn't say 'no' to her when she looked at me with those sad eyes'? 'I had a lot of things on my mind and she was comforting to be with'? Yes, because that would certainly fly with his overprotective new bodyguard. Saber _definitely_ seemed the type to accept excuses that boiled down to 'I had to comfort a stranger' and 'I flaked out'. She, a girl who could eat enough for three people, would be _totally accepting_ of the fact that he'd ditched her at mealtime.

God, he was so dead. He didn't regret spending time with Ilya; the fact that he'd gotten along with her so naturally he'd spent five more hours doing so than he'd planned to was proof of that. But he had a feeling that his next training session with Saber was going to hurt much more than the first one had.

 

"I'm not late!"

* * *

 

Ilya danced through the forest, humming an aimless little tune and smiling more widely than she thought she ever had in her whole life. Appropriate, given that she could not remember having ever had as much fun as she had this day.

Oh, Grandpapa had been _wrong_ about the Emiya boy, completely and utterly. Shirou hadn't turned her away at all. He had talked to her, smiled at her, spent time just being with her and doing all he could to make her happy in their brief hours together. More than Grandpapa had ever done, more than anyone had done for her since mama and papa had left. He'd even asked to see her again! He _wanted_ to spend time with her, he'd asked for it himself!

He was _wonderful_.

Well... most likely. She was naive, but not so childish as she looked or acted, and she admitted to herself the possibility that he might still be pretending, trying to deceive her. She didn't think so; she wasn't the best at picking up on lies, but she doubted Shirou could fool her. He was so adorably guileless that even as sheltered as she was, she found him a bit of an open book. That was okay, though, it was incredibly cute.

Another thought, far more worrisome, was the possibility that he would turn on her once he found out who she really was, what their connection was and why she'd really come to 'visit' Japan. But honestly, she didn't think that was true either. She'd looked into his eyes, talked to him, held him. He was _warm_ , in every sense of the word. Just to be safe, she would wait before telling him. She would keep her real self a secret until she was absolutely sure he loved her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and then she would tell him the whole truth, and he would accept her, and they would always be together.

It wasn't like lying, as long she told him eventually. Right?

And she would, because she had to tell him when he became hers. Kiritsugu had left her, for whatever reason. She'd had enough doubt thrown into her worldview lately to admit that she didn't know for certain _why_ he had abandoned her, but she knew he had. But Shirou...

Shirou was _hers_. He was warm, and gentle, and soft-hearted, and a little bit of a dummy but in a cute way, and he was hers. He wanted to be with _her_ , he cared about _her_. And she, in turn, wanted him to stay by her side for the rest of her life. It was just that simple.

Ilya was not a girl who did things in half-measures; once she chose a path, she ran down it full-throttle wearing her heart on her sleeve. When she hated, she was merciless.

And when she loved, she loved without reservations.

Shirou was in for a very significant complication in his personal life.

* * *

 

The white princess twirled a bit, her coat flaring around her legs, giggling softly as she continued her dance through the forest toward her castle. She would have some explaining to do to her attendants, but she didn't care in the slightest. She just continued to smile brilliantly as she half-walked half-danced her way home, humming a gentle tune and happier than she'd been in years.

"T-Tohsaka-senpai, this really isn't necessary..." Sakura said. It was amazing how she could manage to look pale and yet blush at the same time.

"I don't mind. It's not too far, and I could use the fresh air." Rin said, walking beside her.

"Well, I mean... um..." Sakura said.

'Um' was as far she got. Further words simply didn't want to come, and really she'd already said all the ones she could think of before now anyway.

To be frank, Sakura wasn't sure what to make of this. Rin had basically hunted her down to walk her home after school, even waiting the extra hours for both Archery Club practice and Sakura staying another hour-and-a-half after the rest of the club had left to clean up. She had tried to refuse, of course, but Rin would have none of that, claiming that if she was sick, she shouldn't be walking home alone. So she'd tried reason; she had claimed to not be really sick, more of a little bug, she felt fine, really.

Rin had smiled widely and proclaimed that with the weather so cold, sudden illness was always a danger and even a tiny ailment could grow out of control if one wasn't careful.

She'd then attempted a more extreme avenue of attack; Sakura was not going to her own house, she was going to the Emiya household, which was much further out of Rin's way.

Rin had claimed a sudden interest in exercise and welcomed the chance for a nice long walk.

Sakura didn't, of course, say the real reason they should not be walking together. Rin knew that just as well or better than she did. The occasional chat in the halls to keep up appearances was no problem, but both of them knew they weren't supposed to actually _interact_. It was against any number of family rules, it was probably stupid during a Grail War, and more than anything else...

 _It's just wrong. It's wrong for someone amazing like her to associate with something like me_. 

Yet she couldn't bring herself to offer more than half-hearted protests that Rin shot down easily, precisely because Rin was associating with her even though she shouldn't. Because Rin was with her.

Because nee-san was by her side.

Sakura didn't know, precisely, why nee-san had suddenly taken an interest in her. She knew that there was a significant part of herself that truly did not care, though. The part that hoped, despite having no reason to. She wanted Rin to want to spend time with her, craved that sense of concern, as much as she didn't like to admit it.

_Nee-san is worried about me! And I'll be living with senpai, at his own invitation!_

It was, frankly, so much like a dream that she half-believed she would soon wake up. Such simple little things, but combined they added up to so much happiness that she felt it couldn't possibly be real, not for her. Sakura Matou didn't get to be happy, her life had made this abundantly clear. Yet here she was, walking home with Rin almost like they were real sisters, to go see the man she loved. Even her body was being cooperative; the ever-present burning in her blood, the bone-deep fatigue she'd been trying so hard to disguise, she could barely even feel them anymore. It almost had to be a dream.

Had her mind been in a better place, she might have recognized that she could no longer feel either pain nor tiredness because the world was blurring around her so much she could barely feel or perceive anything at all. But to her muddled thought processes that she was unable to realize were muddled, the fact that suddenly this feeling of generally fuzziness crystallized into a total loss of control of her body made perfect sense and seemed nothing to worry about; just proof that she, as she'd suspected, had been dreaming. And look! The ground was moving closer to her, it must be one of those 'falling' dreams where you wake up when you hit the-

She was just barely able to perceive impacting on something soft that wrapped around her, halting her fall forward. "Wh-what the-? Sakura, are you..." Said a voice she just barely recognized as Rin. Something cool and soft touched her forehead. "Dammit, you're burning up! Sakura, can you hear me? Sakura!"

 _Oh, nee-san thinks something is wrong_. Sakura thought happily as blackness began to creep in around the edges of her mind. _She must not know this is a dream. Silly. Still, it's nice that she's worried..._

"Damn, damn, damn!" Rin said. "Okay, we're closer to Emiya's than to a hospital, and if I have to carry you, I will! Up we go, a-one and a-two and a-thr _ulf_! Okay, wow, heavier than you look. No problem, I can deal with that. Come on, one step at a time Rin, one step at a time..."

 _Hee... nee-san_. Sakura thought deliriously, enjoying the concern and not even minding the comment on her weight. Her last thought before passing out completely was that if this was a dream, she hoped she didn't wake up for a long time.

* * *

 

Shirou stood before the Judges of Hell, and knew that he was amongst the damned.

"Six hours. You informed me that you would be home shortly, yet you left for six hours." Saber said.

"You weren't here when I got home!" Fuji-nee said.

"I did not know where you were, where to look for you, why you had not checked back in. You left me completely in the dark."

"You call in sick and then just go out and have fun, eh? You think I'm just going to _forgive_ that? You think betraying my trust like that is funny? Huh? Huh?"

"You could have been killed. You could have been kidnapped. Threats are everywhere, Shirou, and can appear at any time. Daylight does not necessarily equal safety."

"You could have gotten me _fired_ , making me look like I'm giving you special treatment because I'm your big si... because I was your father's friend!"

"You did not bring home lunch."

"You were late making me dinner!"

" ** _Explain_**." The two irritated women finished in perfect unison.

"... ... there... there was this girl..." Shirou said. Even to his own ears, he already sounded pretty pathetic.

" _WHAT_?!" Taiga roared.

"Shirou, really, this is no time for you to allow your base, lustful perversions to control your reasoning." Saber said, her expression suggesting she was looking at a slug, or a cockroach. Something she would hesitate to step on only because it would be disgusting to wipe off her shoe.

"N-no! Not like that, really, she was just a kid, and..."

" _Pervert_!" Taiga shrieked.

"Honestly, Shirou," Saber said. Shirou felt it would take hours of work just for the honor of being regarded as on the level of a slug again.

"Both of you, don't jump to weird conclusions!" Shirou begged. "I swear, I was just... she looked sad, and she was all alone. So I decided to walk her around town, and I guess she took my mind off my troubles so I ended up spending more time with her than I planned, and..."

"... Ugh." Taiga said. Instantly, and to Saber's great surprise, the hostility drained out of her to be replaced by irritated resignation. "I have to admit, that does sound stupid like you. You're the sort who would jump at the chance to help someone like that."

"Excuse me?" Saber asked, seemingly displeased at the loss of her wingman in this bombardment.

"Oh, Saber-chan, you really need to understand exactly what kind of guy we're dealing with here." Taiga said. "Shirou has always been like this. The 'defender of justice', 'protector of the innocent'. You know, when they asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said a 'superhero'? Now, lots of little kids say things like that, but he was _serious_."

Shirou felt his face redden. "Look, I know how it sounds. But what's wrong with helping people?"

Taiga sighed. "Nothing, really... in moderation. But you know, if you really want to help people, you could start by helping _me_ , huh? I was so worried about you that I challenged Saber-chan to a sparring duel and she beat me up!"

"Oh, well, I'm sorry b- wait, what?" Shirou asked.

"Ah. Well. We were both worried about you, and I was waiting in the dojo when she arrived home, so... she was very insistent. And I was tense and frustrated, so I thought it might be a good way to pass the time..." Saber said, having at least the good graces to realize that she had done something stupid. She was smiling, but in a nervous, mildly humiliated sort of way, embarrassed and very obviously trying to pretend she wasn't. Saber, Shirou was discovering, was not very skilled in the art of bluffing.

"You... didn't fight seriously, did you?" Shirou asked. _Why am I even asking? Of course you did._

"She is quite strong, so I'm afraid going easy was not a possibility." Saber said, still with that ludicrously goofy expression. It didn't really suit her aura of dignity, and yet it was so unexpectedly cute that Shirou really couldn't complain. Much.

"Shirou. Don't sneak into Saber-chan's room at night, seriously. She'll kill you." Taiga said. Her eyes were the eyes of a shell-shocked war veteran.

 _Ha! I'm the one who has to worry about people sneaking into my room around here!_ Shirou thought. Out loud, because he was not suicidal, he said, "Well, I'd hope that by this point, you'd know that you don't have to worry about that sort of behavior from m-"

A crunching noise from the front door cut him off, sounding for all the world as if someone had 'knocked' on it by attempting to kick it down. The boundary field didn't react, so there weren't hostile intentions... but who exactly would be trying to break down the door without wanting to hurt anyone inside?

Shirou turned to move to the source of the intrusion, only to find that Saber had quite efficiently beat him to it. Passing him at speeds that she kept just barely in human limits, for Taiga's benefit, she made for the door, fully intending to greet any guests politely and kill any intruders horribly.

"See?" Taiga asked, watching the nigh-impossible display of speed and fluid movement. "Scary girl."

Without a word, Shirou bolted after her.

"Huh. What's up with them? It's just a knock on the door." Taiga said. "... I wonder what's for dinner?"

Saber reached the door first, of course; even if she hadn't had a head start, she probably would have. Shirou had expected that. What he didn't expect was to see the girl frozen in shock, unsure of what action she should be taking. Nor did he expect to join her in this state, but he instantly did so upon seeing exactly who was framed in the door.

Rin Tohsaka, the cool, perfect school idol turned perhaps the biggest threat to his life in the city, stood in his doorway. She looked more frightened than he'd ever seen her, even the previous night when Berserker had been attacking her.

And hanging limply from her arms, shivering, pale and dripping with sweat was the all too familiar form of Sakura.

"Help?" Rin asked softly.

* * *

 

Taiga put Sakura to bed; Rin was a guest, Saber barely knew her, and Shirou could clearly not be trusted to undress an unconscious girl after proving himself so unreliable this afternoon! So Taiga, as the responsible adult, took charge.

She was concerned, of course, but not really worried; she'd seen her share of sick kids in her time as a teacher, and it wasn't hard to hit on the real problem. Sakura wasn't really sick... oh, she might indeed have a bug of some sort, but the main problem was that she was simply _exhausted_ , physically and mentally. Not exactly a shocker when you considered she somehow balanced school, club activities, and keeping both the Emiya and Matou houses running smoothly, right? So Taiga took the girl to the nicest guest room in the house, got her into some more comfortable clothes, and put her to bed. A good night's sleep and taking a day off tomorrow would be just what the doctor ordered; Shirou would just have to miss some more school in order to be Sakura's personal slave for a little bit. Relaxing and ordering Shirou around always made _Taiga_ feel healthier when she was under the weather or even just kind of felt like ordering Shirou around, so it would probably make Sakura feel better too.

Taiga tousled the sleeping girl's hair affectionately, smiling softly as she arranged the blankets to best keep her warm. "Dummy. You're just as bad as he is, you know? You two need to learn how to take it easy from time to time. Get better, okay?"

"Nee... san...?" The girl muttered softly in her sleep.

" _Aaaaaaaaawwwww_!" Taiga squealed. "Yeah, Fuji-nee is here! What a nice girl."

Sakura briefly frowned in her sleep, as though annoyed by something. Taiga did not notice.

* * *

 

In the kitchen, Shirou and Rin sat on opposite ends of the table, making a concerted effort to look at anything except each other. Shirou probably felt somewhat neglected as a result, but Rin was still getting all of the attention she could handle because Saber refused to take her eyes off the girl for a second.

"So. Archer is here, isn't he?" Shirou asked, deciding that something needed to be done to break the silence.

"Yes." Rin said calmly, without looking at him. "I'm not bringing him out, don't worry."

"You would be dead before the first arrow left the bow," Saber said.

"Yes, that's the big reason why I'm not bringing him out," Rin said.

Silence fell once again.

"... why did you bring Sakura back here?" Shirou asked after another few painful minutes.

"She wanted to go here, and it was close by," Rin said. "Besides, you heard sensei. It's probably just exhaustion, maybe a bit of a flu, right? She'll be fine in a day or two."

 _I hope_ , She did not say.

"Well... thank you," Shirou said softly.

"I didn't do it for you," Rin replied. "I was just helping out a classmate."

"Then thank you for her." Shirou said.

Rin did not reply, merely blushed slightly and looked away. Silence fell again.

 _Argh, this is awkward_! Shirou thought. _Just... say something._

"Ryudou Temple," He blurted out.

"... what about it?" Rin asked, blinking a few times in confusion at the sheer randomness.

"I think one of the Masters is up there," Shirou said. "Shinji said something about the 'witch on the mountain' stealing souls. Ryudou is the only mountain I can think of that makes sense."

"I... no, that doesn't make sense at all," Rin said, frowning. "How could someone be stealing souls from the temple? To take life-energy from the people at that distance would take a great magic, even for a Servant. Whoever was doing it would have to spend so much energy they'd be lucky to break even."

Shirou shrugged. "I don't know about that, I just know what Shinji said. I thought you might want to know."

"Well, it makes no sense... unless... ugh, I don't know. Maybe I should check it out, or..." Rin said. Halfway through the sentence, her expression hardened; not overtly hostile, but she certainly didn't look as open as she had mere seconds ago. "But that brings up my other problem: Why do you think I can trust anything you say? For all I know you're trying to lead me into a trap."

"... yeah. I guess looking at it that way, you can't really believe me," Shirou admitted. _Stupid... I should have known she'd react like that_. "I just... I don't really have anything else I can give you in thanks for what you did for Sakura."

Rin looked away from him once again. He wasn't sure why that bothered him so much. "Well... I told you not to thank me for that," She stood, smoothing her skirt. "I did what I came here to do, and I don't want anything in return, so there's no reason to impose on your hospitality. Good-bye, Emiya."

"Tohsaka, wait..." Shirou said, holding one hand out as she strode purposefully back towards the front door.

"I hope you're not trying to ask me to stay. Someone with your connections hardly needs me around," She said, without turning around, "And isn't it only natural for me to leave a place where my life is so obviously in danger?"

Shirou fell silent. The hostility radiating off Saber in waves made it hard to disagree with that. Saber wanted to protect him. Tohsaka, or at least her Servant, had tried to kill him. He didn't think they'd be reconciling any time soon.

"Tell Sakura I hope she feels better," Rin said, exiting the room. The renewed silence was deafening.

 _A few days ago she was just the cute girl from school. Now we could end up killing each other_.

"Saber..." Shirou said when he heard the front door close.

"Yes, Shirou?" The blonde asked, the tense air draining from her posture with Rin's exit.

"The Holy Grail War?" Shirou asked. "I don't care what the prize is. It's not worth this. The blood, and the death, and... and Tohsaka and I don't even know each other and we're at each other's throats. There's a sick girl in the other room, and I might end up having to kill her brother, one of my oldest friends. There's four other people I've never even met, and I might have to kill some of them too. No wish is worth all of this. None."

"Shirou, I-"

"I'm going to go check on Sakura," He said, standing to leave the room himself.

Saber, unsure of what else to do, sat in silence.

Rin walked down the street towards her home, Archer invisibly by her side. " _You placed it, right_?" He asked.

"Of course. Before we ever walked in the door," Rin replied. "The gem is slipped into the lining of her coat. Unless she routinely stops to feel up every inch of her jacket she'll never notice it, and it should let me keep at least a bit of an eye on her even if she's inside another Magus's area of influence. I can't use it to check in too often or it will be noticed, but at least I'll know if anything major happens."

" _How sweet_."

"H-hey! It's just because she's close to Shinji and Emiya, that's all! I need every advantage I can get!" Rin said, blushing furiously. "If I'm going to have a shot at beating Emiya, I need to know as much as I can about him and his partner both! Sakura is just my... my spy, that's all! My _pawn_ is what she is."

" _Of course,_ " Archer said, glad that she couldn't see his smirk while he was in astral form. " _You're obviously not worried about her at all_."

"... It's good that you recognize that," Rin said. Yes, she had heard the blatant sarcasm in his tone. She was choosing to ignore it, because...

Well, maybe she was a little bit worried. Not much!

At least Archer realized that teasing her had its limits, because he switched back to business talk. " _And Ryudou Temple_?"

"... Emiya isn't much of a liar, so as much as I hate to admit it he was probably telling the truth, or at least the truth as he knows it. Maybe there really is a Master up there."

" _So we're planning to investigate? Tonight? My wounds are healed for the most part. I'm certainly up to fighting strength, and we can assume that if the Master on the mountain were Berserker's, he wouldn't have said anything and endangered his partner. We could attack_."

"... Not tonight. Whoever it is, this Servant is using some kind of trick to steal souls all the way from the Temple, and I haven't figured out how. I don't like going into a situation with this many unknowns." Rin said. "Besides, whoever it is... oh, that's right, you suspected Caster, didn't you? Well, Caster hasn't killed anyone yet at all. It's not like one night to plan will make a huge difference, right?"

* * *

 

Night had fallen. The Material was dormant.

It was time to begin.

Zouken Matou examined the ritual chamber in satisfaction. The summoning circle was perfect; human blood, as was typical and appropriate. The worms that bred in the recesses of the dank crypt were already hard at work devouring the sacrifice that had provided this blood; Zouken briefly inclined his head toward the rapidly vanishing corpse. In truth, he couldn't even remember if the meat had been male or female, much less what it had looked like before he'd slit its throat, drained what he'd needed, and thrown the remainders to his pets. Still, he felt that offering it a tiny show of acknowledgment was only fair; in its own small way, it had contributed to his designs, after all. With some effort (whatever the body, those old bones ached unbelievably), Zouken sat in the center of the circle and began the incantation.

" _Ye first, O silver, O iron_  
O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract.  
Let the descending winds be as a wall  
Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve.  
Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut.  
Five perfections for each repetition.  
And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead."

The half-dried circle surrounding the old Magus changed with his words; first becoming the brilliant crimson it had been when still freshly painted, then going further, igniting in brilliant scarlet light as his ancient Magic Circuits channeled the dark powers he invoked. An ordinary summoning on the Holy Grail was typically not terribly difficult; the Great Grail did most of the work. But Zouken was cheating, and the power required for what he attempted was beyond human means. Luckily, Zouken was willing to engage in any number of inhuman acts. Drawing the circle in blood was simply standard, but there had been a reason that Zouken had gone the extra length for a full human sacrifice, captured a soul to burn for power...

" _Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy black hand._  
If thou submittest to the call of the Holy Grail and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond.  
I make my oath here.  
I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens.  
I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades.  
Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words,  
come past thy restraining rings, and be thou the hands that grant eternity."

The circle of blood around the ancient creature, already glowing, exploded in a burst of scarlet light that filled the hideous chamber and sent the worms scrambling for their holes, gibbering in terror. The corpse of the sacrifice was now little more than discarded clothing and hair they'd not found appetizing.

Judging by what was left of the outfit, it had apparently been a male, Zouken noted.

The first spell was complete; the invitation had been given. But the rules had been broken by more than just Zouken. His Assassin had been invited, yes, but the path it had to walk down was obstructed by Caster's work. The next step was to deal with this.

Reaching out with his mind, he touched the center of his essence, his greatest familiar, implanted deep in the heart of his ultimate weapon. He thought a single word.

 _Awaken_.

And the shadows began to move.

* * *

 

The tiniest little change can rock the world.

For instance, had Shirou Emiya spent less time with the charming white-haired girl who clung to him like Velcro anytime he tried to leave, he might have gotten dinner finished on time.

And he and Saber might have been able to make sure Sakura was resting comfortably early enough to get some actual planning done, and gone on patrol that night.

And since they were not as cautious as Rin Tohsaka, they might have arrived at Ryudou Temple in time to see at least the ending of the events that took place there. And if that had happened, well... things might have been very different.

But those little changes had happened. Shirou and Saber spent the night in. Rin and Archer did not investigate the Temple that day. And the nightmare on the sacred mountain went unseen and unknown, for the moment.

It began with Assassin.

The gatekeeper stood silent, exercising his only duty, when the attack struck. It was over almost before it began; Assassin never truly understood what happened. Something... he could think of no other description beyond 'thing'... had approached the temple gates, and before he could even defend himself he was being torn apart from the inside out. His sword clattered uselessly down the steps as shadows from outside his body tore their way in, and shadows within his body ripped their way out…

All that the man who was not truly Sasaki Koujiro could do was smile his contempt to his killer as he died, and with his death the gate was finally opened for Zouken's summoning. Assassin died, and the true Assassin was born, the flesh and blood of his unwilling 'father' becoming the abomination's first meal.

The pale moonlight that shone down beautifully on the temple did not suit the grisly scene. A new moon would have been better, or a cloudy night with not even a star in the sky. But nature is rarely so accommodating.

Caster was next. The Assassin slid unseen through the halls of the temple, death following quite literally on his heels as something twisted and horrible and hungry slithered in his wake. He made no sound, he left no trace; not even the dust was disturbed. The trade of the Assassin was stealth, and in that trade no man was his equal... though to his discomfort, he was matched or perhaps even exceeded by the creature that followed his path; even knowing exactly where it was, he could barely feel its presence. When it went on the attack, the aura of sheer wrongness it exuded was almost tangible, but when it sought to hide, even he would be hard pressed to find it... more proof, as if such was neeed that this thing he had been paired with was a monster even by the standards of a being as inhuman as he? He knew better than anyone what sort of creature he was; twisted, cannibalistic, one who had abandoned Allah and been abandoned in turn. And yet the mindless, devouring thing made even him slightly uneasy, although he knew instinctively that it would not harm him so long as he showed no hostility and did not touch it. They were alike, both sins against the world. It would not see him as food unless he gave it reason to.

Still, he found it off-putting, and that was saying something.

Ah, well, there were more important matters to attend to. He could sense the witch, smell her on the air. She crouched in the center of her Temple, like a spider in its web. By now, she would have sensed that something was wrong, her guard dog's command seals having faded. Would she go to the gate to determine why, or retreat deeper into her sanctum? It mattered little, beyond determining the best position to strike from. The spider's web had caught something far too lethal for it to consume, this time...

Caster opened her eyes. "We are under attack."

Souichiro Kuzuki nodded once, rising to his feet. He had not noticed anything amiss, but Caster had senses that even someone with his training could not match.

"Assassin is gone, so we can assume the Temple has been breached." She continued. "I can't detect them for some reason, but they have to... ah. Of course. Someone's closed the loophole I exploited." That was not good, not good at all. Someone must have used the false Assassin she'd called as a Summoning catalyst, and that meant a Servant Assassin was in her Temple, acting with unknown powers and serving under an unknown Master. She wasn't sure how this was possible; she couldn't picture a modern Magus having a better understanding of the Servant system than she, but such would be required to weave a spell of that nature. It was a cause for concern, certainly.

Still, she was in the heart of her territory, the height of her power. So long as she did not panic, Assassin was no real threat to her. Waving her hand in her Master's direction, she invoked the body enhancements that would allow him to battle beside her. "Master, stay close to me. I'll prepare a defe-"

Like lightning, Kuzuki's hand snapped past her head, missing her cheek by scant millimeters. She heard the impact, a bizarre soft thud unlike anything in nature as sharpened metal struck flesh and bounced off harmlessly, Kuzuki's fist deflecting the throwing knife before it could strike the back of Caster's neck.

She was impressed, honestly. Assassin's stealth skills were greater than she had expected; he'd managed to approach so closely, and she'd not sensed a thing until the instant he'd launched his attack.

Still that had been his one and only chance. She turned her eyes upward to the rafters over the great hall, seeing now the white skull outlined against the ceiling. She raised her hand, violet flame bursting into existence in her palm as magic gathered.

The black figure fell from the ceiling like a spider descending on a thread, smooth and inhuman. Caster's magical bolt missed, crushing the rafter the creature had been perched on but missing the Servant itself. A ragged cloak obscured the true features of the body, but the thing was thoroughly deformed; joints that bent in the wrong way. Limbs that were too long. Jet-black skin, and a face obscured by a grinning skull mask.

Assassin landed on all fours, catlike, but the movement as it attacked was far from feline grace; more the twisted skittering of a scorpion. It leapt backwards, more of those night-black throwing daggers leaping from its fingers aimed for her heart, neck, femoral artery, liver. Lethal targets all... if even one knife had been allowed to hit. With a wave of her arm, an invisible wall materialized between Caster and the incoming projectiles, deflecting them more effectively than steel plate armor. A second gesture brought forth another killing blast of magic, which the shockingly quick Assassin managed once more to dodge, leaping over the burning light...

... and landing in the clutches of one of the most deadly hand-to-hand combatants in the War, Servants included. While Assassin was in the air, unable to alter its course, Kuzuki dashed forward to intercept its landing point, acting in his usual capacity as the Master/Servant team's frontline defense. His fists strengthened by her magic, the 'teacher' stepped into Assassin, bringing his right hand in held flat to impale the thing through the throat.

The blow struck, but the Servant seemed largely unaffected and swung its clublike arm at an impossible angle. Kuzuki snapped his head back, letting the limb breeze past mere millimeters from his nose, and brought both his hands in at curving, hooked blows that slipped past the black Servant's guard and struck its chest. He felt bone break beneath his fingertips, but once again Assassin seemed to not notice the pain; was he drugged? It would not be the first time Kuzuki had fought someone using that trick.

A throwing dagger clenched between its fingers, Assassin swung its more humanlike arm upward in an arc. Kuzuki saw the blow coming, but midjudged it nontheless; unused to the opponent's strange movements and oddly-proportioned body, he mistimed his dodge and felt the edge of the blade trace a hot line along the side of his face, knocking off his glasses.

This was a problem... his fighting style depended on surprising his opponent with unorthodox movements, yet he himself was having trouble predicting how this creature would do _anything_. Further, it ignored his blows, seeming to feel no pain at all.

Well. He wasn't used to fighting with a partner, yet, but he was pragmatic enough to know this was a situation when it would be useful.

Kuzuki feinted right, making as if to knock his opponent's limb out of the way and bring his elbow in at the thing's face, but instead pivoted on his heel and propelled himself backwards low to the ground, sliding back. Caught flat-footed, Assassin guarded for a physical blow that never came... and was thus unable to dodge the blast of magical force that Caster sent flying through the space Kuzuki had been less than a second previous.

Drugs or no, it was safe to say that Assassin felt _that_ one as the violet energy ripped through his body, throwing him across the entry hall to slam into a support pillar with bone-crushing force. The inhuman thing spasmed like a hooked fish as Caster approached, drawing Rule Breaker, her Noble Phantasm. Able to nullify any and all magical contracts, it was an ideal weapon for dealing with Servants... rather than destroy them, she could force her own contract on them, make them her own. Best not to waste valuable combat resources, after all.

She smirked at the broken Assassin, still smoking on the ground and barely even appearing to breathe. "Not as good as my last dog, but you'll do. Did you think it would be that easy to end my life, ragged thing?"

From beneath the skull mask, a strange, sibilant hissing emerged. It took Caster a moment to realize what it was, it sounded so inhuman.

 _Laughter_.

"You were NEver the REal targET. And I was neVER the kILLer." The black creature said, it's voice as bizarre and inhuman as its appearance, lending strange emphasis to the words, syllables they should not have had.

Caster's eyes widened. "Souichiro-sa-" she began, turning to her Master...

... just in time to see the end.

It came from nowhere; even Kuzuki didn't sense it. The bubbling pool of inky blackness simply materialized around his feet, leaving him no time nor ability to dodge. Rather than consume, the vile tar appeared to flow into him, seeping through his clothes and skin.

 _Corroding his soul_...! Whatever that black, shapeless thing was, it was eating her lover from the inside out!

Caster leapt forward, Rule Breaker in hand. It was a slim chance, but possibly she could dispel whatever connection that... _gods, what is it? Just looking at it makes my mind hurt_... that thing had made to her Master's soul. She didn't know if it would work or not, but it was the only meager chance she had left.

And it was exactly what Zouken had been hoping for. The old Magus prodded his weapon with a simple, psychic command. And Kuzuki's body was hurled forward.

Caster was not a warrior, not terribly skilled in the use of knives. She did not compensate in time. The magical dagger, intended only to prick the surface of his skin just enough to invoke the anti-magic effect, struck his chest and plunged into his heart up to the hilt.

Caster saw the light leave his eyes, personally. He had already been closer to dead than alive when she'd struck, but there was still something left of him. And as he looked into her shocked face, his own blood flowing freely over her knife hand, there was no anger or sadness in his eyes. Rather, he did something he had never done: he smiled at her. With his last breath, he smiled, showing her that her efforts had been successful. He had died as himself.

It was the worst possible thing he could have done, Caster thought, her mind overwhelmed at the realization of what she had just done. Saved him and lost him, all in the space of a second.

Caster held him close, bearing him down to the floor. The weight of the... the body... was nothing to her, it was just that her knees were too weak to stand. _Souichiro...sama..._

_He was... I... no._

_No, no, no. Please, every god there ever was, please no..._ She thought, holding the still-warm body close, unconcerned with the blood drenching her robes. _Please, please no. I'm sorry, Souichiro, I'm sorry, please, no, don't leave me..._

How had this happened? How had she been outmaneuvered so thoroughly when everything had been going so perfectly? In a single moment of black terror, the entire situation had been turned around on her.

Her Master was gone. Assassin had vanished as well, faded from view to hide in some dark corner; at the moment, Caster couldn't have cared less about him anyway. All that remained was...

The thing. The horrid thing that had been truly responsible for this, it was still there. She couldn't see it, but it was no longer hiding from her, not anymore. It was all around her, freely and openly projecting its twisted, black aura.

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All she could do was helplessly clutch her Noble Phantasm like a lifeline and pray for survival. She could feel the encroaching darkness. From within as the loss of her contract already began to fatigue her, from without as something hungry and horrible circled her like a shark that had scented blood.

Something. Anything. Anything at all to distract that painful and utterly wrong aura of chilling malevolence that shocked even her. Please, let anything at all come now, she would welcome even death at this point... just to get away from that sense of formless doom that filled the air of the desecrated temple.

Nothing came.

Painful, impossibly tense minutes passed as Caster shuddered in grief and terror, unable to do anything but pray. And finally, that pervading hunger simply could no longer be controlled.

The darkness came from all around her, when the attack finally occurred. Flowing in through the windows, bubbling up through the floor, a twisted miasma that came from everywhere at once and clung to her robes like tar, melting into the skin beneath them like acid, burning through her magical defenses as though they did not exist. But more than the assault on her body, the moment the Shadow touched her skin... her _mind_...

**_hungry_ **

**_so hungry_ **

**_It's not enough, it's not enough_ **

**_cold_ **

**_lonely_ **

**_please don't let me be alone_ **

**_please_ **

**_it hurt it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts_ **

**_it's not enough_ **

**_please_ **

**_stay with me_ **

**_feed me_ **

**_please make it stop_ **

It was incomprehensible, the worst possible assault for a Magus, normally so in-control of her own mind. A flood of madness and horror and pain and raw, shrieking loneliness so intense it chilled her to her soul, all running rampant through her brain without her consent or any response to her attempts to fight it off. This thing was not merely assaulting her physical form, it was laying waste to the territory of her soul, the most hideous indignity imaginable.

And as Caster was invaded and defiled by this obscene, twisted insanity... she had something of an epiphany.

Such pain. Such fear. Such hunger.

And so much _power_ , power like nothing she had ever felt.

Dark powers were nothing new to Medea. And even this chill in her soul was not the most vile emotion she had felt in her bitter life. Even as the tide of darkness battered against her mind, she studied it, analyzed the composition, learned and adapted, saw the creature seeping into her and began to understand it.

Yes, this was a creature of darkness, but so was Caster, moreso now than ever before. Souichiro-sama was dead. Her chance at happiness was gone. Not a hint of anything remotely positive remained in her heart; all she had left was pain, and bitterness, and, of course _revenge_.

Yes. Medea was very familiar with revenge. It was comforting, like an old friend's hand on her shoulder. She couldn't be happy, but vengeance would bring satisfaction, at the very least.

 _Shhhhhhh..._ Caster replied to the chaos, projecting soothing emotions as best she could while trying to fight back her aching need to go mad at the feeling of the foreign material seeping into her body and soul. _It's all right. You don't want to harm me..._

**_it hurts_ **

_I will comfort you._

**_hunger_ **

_I will feed you as much as you need._

**_it's not enough_ **

_We'll find more._

**_so_ **

**_so_ **

**_so_ **

**_so lonely._ **

_It's all right... I will never leave your side. We will be together, and you won't have to be lonely anymore_. Caster thought as the Shadow enveloped her. It was a force of corruption that would drive the greatest of heroes to despair, a thing of hunger and pain and sorrow.

Caster was not a hero. And Medea understood something of sorrow.

_Such a tormented creature. Don't worry, I'm with you now. I will stay by your side for as long as you want... and once we know each other a bit better, perhaps you can do **me** a favor._

_... ... ... stay with me..._

_Of course. Isn't that what friends are for?_

The thick black substance covered the last inch of her body, leaving her a blackened silhouette. When the Shadow finally dispersed, Caster was simply gone.

And anyone who had seen the small, triumphant smile on her face as she was consumed would never have slept soundly again.

* * *

 

In the Ryudou Temple, Zouken Matou looked at the space where Caster and his weapon had been only moments before.

Not in person, of course. Misdirection was key; should the Masters realize the danger he represented, or the Overseer realize his involvement, they might unite against him. That would be inconvenient, until his plans had progressed a bit further. No, he observed through one of his familiars, a literal fly on the wall that had slipped through Caster's guard to observe the situation as it progressed.

That was not supposed to happen. Caster's Master was to die, leaving her without a contract. One of the other Masters would take advantage of her weakness before the night's end and cut her down, as was their wont. In the end, he would be left with his own Servant, one new addition to his Holy Grail, Caster's corpse to use how he wished, and whatever fool who did the final deed leaving under the impression that she had killed her own Master.

And yet, things had not gone at all according to plan. Caster was hardly trying to hide her presence at Ryudou, and he'd of course overheard the discussion between the Emiya boy and the Tohsaka girl through his connection to Sakura. They both knew of the Servant on the mountain, and he'd been certain that at least one of them would make the attempt. Saber, ideally, but either would do. He had even chosen to launch his attack to coincide with the patrol schedule that both had shown the previous night. Yet no Master had assaulted the mountain stronghold, and in their absence something very, very troublesome had happened.

His weapon, overcome by hunger and with nothing to distract it from Caster, had attacked without his orders.

Why? How? It shouldn't be capable of thought or independent action, at least not _yet_. Why had it reacted so strongly to Caster? Was its hunger greater than he'd anticipated, or was there some other reason for this strange behavior? Perhaps something about the Servant had resonated with it, or perhaps it was simply hungered more than he had suspected. But either way, this situation was not good. Not good at all.

"What HAS happENed? Why dID it take HER aLIve?" Assassin inquired, observing the scene with detached interest.

"... _hide yourself. Remain in the Temple for now, I will begin construction of a boundary field to replace Caster's Temple. Stay within and await further orders_." Zouken ordered before pulling his mind away from the familiar he'd been inhabiting.

He needed to think.

Back in the Temple, Assassin prepared to go into hiding. His contract was not formally recognized by a personal conversation, but Zouken was his Master and he would obey, for the mom-

Hmmm.

The Shadow had left the corpse of Souichiro Kuzuki behind when it had been dismissed. The man had, at the very least, moved like someone deadly from what little Assassin had seen. A Servant would be better, of course, but every little bit of nourishment helped.

Assassin leaned over the cooling body, saliva beginning to drip from beneath his mask.


	9. Dreamscapes

Shirou placed a palm on the sleeping Sakura's brow. No good; her fever still hasn't broken. He'd given her some cold medicine and made a little light soup for her to eat, but it looked like whatever bug she'd come down with was being persistent. Well, the best thing to do, then, was let her get some sleep.

As quietly as he could, he left the resting girl and slid the door shut behind him. As he'd been expecting, Saber was waiting in the hall silently. _No surprise there. After what I said_...

"Saber, I..." He began.

"Perhaps you have a point." Saber said softly.

"Eh?"

"Perhaps to you, what I seek is not worth this conflict." Saber said softly. "I have come into your life unbidden, seeking a prize you place no value on and giving you nothing in return but pain. To you, I can see how this War seems a waste, and I am sorry. But... I simply cannot stop. Not now. I've come too far to... suffice to say, surrender is simply not an option."

Shirou sighed. "Saber... I shouldn't have said that to you in the first place. I promised to help you win this War, and more than that... I know you well enough to know that whatever your wish is, it must be important."

Saber did not look him in the eyes. "I... I wonder sometimes if it is. Perhaps I'm simply being selfish. But... to simply give up without even trying seems far worse to me."

Shirou sighed once again. He laid a hand on Saber's shoulder, prompting a small shocked expression and a slight blush.

"Well, I won't lie. This Holy Grail War... I really don't think it's worth the pain it causes. But stopping it is a worthwhile goal, and the best way I can see to do that is to stop the other Masters from causing damage and make sure a good person wins. I can't think of a better choice than you." he said. Then, with a soft smile, he continued, "And anyway, I gave my word, didn't I? I keep my promises, Saber. As long as you need my help, I'll help you. It's as simple as that.

"Good night, Saber." Shirou said. He walked past her, towards the room he'd slept in the previous night.

For the second time that day, she watched him go in silence. This time, however, she had a slight blush on her face.

* * *

 

It wasn't enough.

Sakura had provided a steady flow of mana for the first time since Rider's summoning, but it wasn't enough. The wounds she had taken from Berserker were simply too great, the power she'd stored from her time slaving under Shinji too small. The fact was that Sakura as she was now simply could not provide Rider with a mana supply sufficient to fully restore her, at least not safely. Under normal circumstances they could probably last out the war, but Rider's injuries had dramatically increased her energy consumption, and Sakura's diminished mana pool simply could not keep up. At this rate, Sakura would die trying to preserve Rider, and that could not be allowed. Alternate energy sources would have to be considered.

But to be blunt, there were not many options. Blood, souls, were the easiest option. Activating Bloodfort Andromeda when it was still mostly incomplete was a desperation move doomed to failure, but even in her weakened state, Rider could most likely waylay a passerby or two and devour them for power. Just a few, just enough to get by...

No, Sakura would never approve. Rider was willing to brook this disapproval to save the girl's life, but she was not willing to accept the very real possibility that Sakura would break their contract if she felt that maintaining it would make her a threat to innocent people. The girl was impossibly selfless, dangerously so. It was vexing, but also one of the many reasons Rider so fervently wished to protect her. To save her. So devouring souls was not an option... unless she had no other choice.

And at the moment, she did have one other choice. Invisibly, intangibly, she observed Shirou Emiya's discussion with his Servant. He'd be going to sleep now, and Rider had a certain way with dreams. Yes, she had one other choice...

Sakura would not approve, not at all. She loved the boy, and would not appreciate Rider violating him in such a manner, not even if it were a dream. But she would accept it, because she would understand that Rider was simply out of options. The only other choices all lead to death.

And besides. The boy would simply have a very good dream. What harm was there in that?

When Shirou closed the door to his room and fell into the futon, Rider followed. She waited, briefly, until she was certain that sleep had claimed him, and invisibly knelt by his bedside...

* * *

 

_Nothing seemed real._

_He had entered his room, crawled into bed, and fallen asleep. He was quite sure he had fallen asleep._

_So why was he so aware? He could feel every hair on his body standing on end. He could count the dust particles in the air, he could smell food that was sitting the refrigerator waiting to be tomorrow's breakfast. Every single sense was hyper-activated. The blood pumping at double-speed through his veins felt like magma. Everything felt so impossibly vibrant that none of it could possibly be real. It was too real to be reality._

_"Shirou..." whispered that soft, elegant voice._

_He wasn't sure when Saber had entered his room, or when she had knelt by the side of his futon, but he certainly felt it when she began kissing him. Her lips were cool, soothing at first. Gentle touches, the mere brush of her lips against his own, tracing his jawline, running down his neck. "Shirou..." she whispered._

_Shirou could say nothing in return. It was as if the lava that replaced his blood took with it his ability to think, to reason. All he could do was freeze, his muscles locking in place as Saber's hands ran down his body. She did not bother with gentleness; his clothing was an obstacle, she ripped it aside. The cool night air felt painfully inadequate, considering the heat beneath his exposed skin. And Saber only made it worse, then, when she pressed her mouth to his bare chest._

_If her lips were cool, her tongue was impossibly warm. Whatever heat, whatever hunger filled his own body, it manifested far more powerfully in Saber. She was burning, molten, and insatiable inferno. If he stayed here, if he did not resist, he would be devoured._

_"Yes." She said, as if in agreement. She traced her tongue back up his body, following the trail she had kissed down it, overwriting the line of soothing cool with an unbearable heat. "Yes, fighting is pointless, just accept it..."_

_Her tongue slid into his mouth, and it was at that moment that any semblance of control or resistance vanished. His hands wrapped around her slender body, feeling the tight muscles and slight curves beneath the restricting clothing. This annoyed him, so he worked his way beneath the sweater, feeling the warm flesh shiver beneath his fingertips. Saber's own hands had been pressing their mouths together, but this was clearly no longer needed, so she took the opportunity to reach back and undo the fastenings of her skirt._

_The kiss was broken, briefly, when she stood to dispense finally with that annoying sweater. There was nothing between them but air, now. She pushed him back onto the futon, and straddled him._

_And then there was nothing between them at all._

_Shirou tried to express something. Some feeling. He tried to say her name, or to beg for more, or even to simply moan, but found that no sound emerged. He was trapped, his will utterly destroyed. He was nothing at this moment but an instrument for her pleasure, that was all. She moved atop him easily, a queen reigning over her conquest. Commanding. Hungry. "Shirou..." She said. Speaking his name one last time. "Move, but not too much."_

_He couldn't even nod. Could do nothing but move his hips in time with her as she commanded, as the pleasure grew in time with a heat so intense he thought it would turn him to ash on the spot._

_"Yes..." Saber gasped, opening her eyes in his clear view for the first time. They were inhuman... red, square-pupiled, and filled with the cold, animal hunger of a snake that has sunk its fangs into a mouse. She looked down at him not with the eyes of a woman staring at her lover, but those of a predator that has sighted prey._

_As she moved her hips more fervently, he found he couldn't care in the slightest._

_"Don't move too hard... just lie back._

**_"Just lie back and be devoured."_ **

* * *

 

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Shirou said, sitting bolt upright in his futon.  
_  
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Dream! Dream! Dream_! He thought frantically.

 _Yes, for starters, it had to be a dream! There was no way that could possibly be anything but a dream! Look at me, for one thing. I'm still dressed! He thought slightly less frantically. If I were... doing... things... with Saber, I wouldn't be. So it had to have been a dream! And even more so, Saber would be here! In my bed! And she's **not**_! He thought. In triumph, he pulled aside the covers next to himself.

A small blond head made his blood turn to ice in his veins.

"Hello." Saber said mildly.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Shirou said for the second time in as many minutes.

"Are you always this loud when you sleep? It will make these arrangements difficult." Saber said.

" _Why are you in my bed_?" Shirou shrieked.

"For your own protection." Saber said as though this were painfully obvious. "Whatever arguments we may have had or agreements we reached today, the simple fact is that my first duty is to protect you. This is the best way to accomplish that. I told you that I would not be giving in on this matter, and since you yourself stated that you wished to preserve our partnership and claim victory in this war, I believed it would not be a problem."

" _How did you get in_?"

"Through the door. It is not very secure, by the way. We might try doing something about that."

" _Out! Out_!" He snapped. Logic was not really his first priority at the moment, particularly since Saber was so close he could feel her body heat and smell her hair and it was starting to make him painfully aware that parts of his body still under the covers were even more alert than the rest of him and...

"No." Saber said calmly. "And it might be in your best interests to stop shouting. The walls are quite thin and Sakura is trying to sleep."

 _Oh God! Oh God! Oh God_! Shirou thought. Sakura! If Sakura found him like this, sweaty and... and 'alert', with Saber in his bed? That was the end. That was all she wrote. There was no more. The life of Shirou Emiya ceased in that moment. She would never forgive him, Fuji-nee would bite his face off, he'd be a pariah at school, he'd... well, it just couldn't happen. "Yes! Yes, this is non-negotiable. You can sleep in the room next door!"

"I told you that is not good en-"

"It will have to be, because you can't! Sleep! Here!" Shirou said, rising to his feet and pulling Saber into the next room.

Or at least, that was the idea.

What actually happened is that he rose to his feet, was struck by a wave of intense nausea and weakness, and fell to his knees before he could take a single step.

"Shirou?" Saber said, concern replacing annoyance in her voice. "Are you feeling well?"

"I... I don't..." Shirou said. And he began to realize to his dismay, that he wasn't. The heat in his body that he had attributed to his dream ( _And it was a dream! Indisputable!_ ) and embarrassment at finding Saber in his room was not fading; in fact, it felt worse. His throat hurt, his muscles felt heavy, he could barely move...

Saber pressed her hand to his forehead. "You have a fever." She said.

Okay, he could move a little. He discovered this as Saber's cool flesh pressed to his skin brought back memories of discarded skirts and soft lips, and he instinctively leaped backwards to get away from said memories.

He then, through a combination of muscle weakness and tangling his legs in his own bedding, tripped backwards, rolled, and slammed into his dresser headfirst.

The silence was deafening.

"I... will go get you a glass of water." Saber said. Her tone suggested she was trying her hardest to pretend the last ten minutes or so had never happened.

"That would be nice." Shirou agreed with all the dignity he could muster. It wasn't much.

* * *

 

Rider hovered over Sakura's bedside, fairly pleased with the results of her actions this night.

She had taken as much mana as she safely could from the Emiya boy, and it had been sufficient. No physical contact had been needed, merely entry into his dreams to connect their souls and draw the power directly from his Magic Circuits. She had been worried that Saber would sense the act, but the Servant had seemed blissfully unaware, even after she'd entered the room herself. In the end, things had been a complete success. Rider now had sufficient energy to heal herself without draining Sakura dry. Nobody had taken any permanent harm; even Shirou would suffer only a day or so of weakness, and it wasn't as though Rider had not, er... compensated him for the inconvenience.

It had been a _very_ good dream.

Still, Rider felt worried for just that reason. She hoped Sakura wouldn't be too upset when she found out; she clearly cared for the boy, and would not be amused with what Rider had done here.

Rider risked just a moment of physical solidity to brush a lock of hair out of the sleeping girl's face. Well, if having Sakura upset with her was the cost of keeping the girl alive, then she could live with that.

* * *

 

Shirou sat with the thermometer in his mouth and tried not to grumble. Complaint just encouraged her.

Taiga's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Well... you do have a fever." She admitted. Her tone suggested that she suspected Shirou of somehow willing his own body temperature to rise so he could get out of another day of school. True, she had been planning to make him take another day off so he could take care of Sakura, but that was different. That was _work_. Now it was morning, Sakura was feeling up and cheerful, and Shirou was the one bedridden.

Taiga didn't like that. Making Shirou stay home to tend the sick was one thing, but at this rate it looked more like she was going to be 'ordering' him to stay home in bed while Saber took care of him... and to be honest, anyone with eyes could tell that Sakura wouldn't be coming in to school today either. She hadn't come right out and said it, but Taiga wasn't stupid (mostly).

This was bad... she'd wanted Shirou to stay home and do hard labor all day, not be waited on hand-and-foot by cute girls. He hadn't really earned it. It might give him a big head. Still, she couldn't exactly deny the evidence of her eyes. He had a fever, there was no helping it.

"Well, this is a surprise. I've never known you to catch a cold, but I guess there's no denying it." Taiga said reluctantly. "Well, you have to stay home again. Saber-chan, you make sure he stays in bed as much as possible, okay? Don't let him exert himself."

"I am to keep Shirou restricted to this bedroom and restrain him if he attempts to leave." Saber said. "Understood."

"Er... that's a bit of a strange way to put it, but basically, yes." Taiga said. This girl was scary. "Shirou, Sakura made you some rice porridge if you feel you can eat. I'll stop and buy something for dinner on my way here after work, so don't worry about cooking. And, er..." She leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper. "... I think Saber-chan really will beat you up and tie you to the bed if she catches you straining yourself, so take it easy? She's a weirdo."

Shirou chuckled just a little bit nervously "Y-yeah, I think you might have a point. I'll just relax today."

"U-um... I'll go get you your breakfast, if you want?" Sakura asked. "And maybe some water if you're still feeling hot?"

Shirou smiled at her. "That sounds nice, Sakura. Thanks."

"N-no! That's fine, I mean... I-I must have given you my cold, so I feel responsible, that's all..." The girl said, blushing furiously.

That made Taiga's ears perk up. "Oh-ho... so you two were doing something that gave Sakura's cold to Shirou...?" She purred.

"Unlikely." Saber said. "I observed Shirou closely throughout the night."

All eyes turned to her. The room was so silent that tombs would have been envious.

"What? Did I say something inappropriate?" Saber asked.

"N-no! Nothing happened!" Shirou said, blushing furiously. "Nothing happened with anyone and I slept the whole night and did nothing to anybody at all!"

Taiga blinked. "Shirou... maybe the cold has gone to your brain?"

* * *

 

Shirou felt, really, that he could have simply stayed there, warm and comfortable, all day.

Sakura was in rare form; in and out of his room like a tornado, catering to every need. Things had briefly gone a bit... awkward... when she had gotten too close to him and dreams had started coming back unbidden, but she seemed to get over it quickly and back to her usual cheery self, taking care of the house all by her lonesome. Even Saber felt comfortable enough to actually go get some sleep and leave Sakura in charge, which Shirou honestly preferred; she needed to conserve her energy, and, er... after that particular dream, he really didn't... she should be out of the room as much as possible. He had the feeling his fever would not break so long as she was nearby.

He was feeling a lot better; his body was still a bit heavy and he still had a mild fever, but it probably wasn't bad enough to keep him in bed. It was just that, well, having Sakura take care of him was, he had to admit, pretty nice in a lot of ways. Taking a day off from time-to-time wasn't bad, right?

But... well, something was nagging at him still. He really couldn't just stay here all day, could he? He had an appointment.

Granted, it had been made on the assumption he'd be healthy, but... well... sick or no, he'd _promised_. He'd told Ilya that he would meet her in the park today around lunchtime, and it was after eleven. If he wanted to make it by noon, he should leave now. But if he disappeared from his room...

Nurse Sakura would be angry.

Fuji-nee would throw a tantrum.

Saber would kill him. That wasn't even a joke, she might very well literally murder him right then and there.

There were, in short, a million reasons not to go, many of them very good. There was only one reason, a pretty lousy one even, to head to the park right this moment.

 _You told her you would be there, and she believed you. Do you want to lie to her_? His conscience said. Stubborn, annoying thing it was, making him do stupid things.

He really should just stay home.

_If I'm only gone for an hour or so, it won't be a problem, right? I'll just go to the park for an hour._

Sakura walked confidently through the halls, a fresh futon and a change of pajamas in her hands. Senpai had been sweating a lot, so getting him some fresh linens would be a good idea. And he'd eaten the porridge she'd made for breakfast, so something more substantial for lunch might be good. And...

* * *

 

She stepped into his bedroom to find it empty.

"S-senpai...?" She asked softly, setting down the pile of cloth in her hands. She peeked her head into the hallway, wondering if she might possibly have passed him without noticing, or...

The kitchen. Of course, it was almost lunch-time, and wouldn't it be _just_ like him to go and make food when he knew she was supposed to be taking care of him! She'd have to be stern with him, as much as she didn't want to. He couldn't be making lunch when he wasn't feeling well!

This thought process provided her with very little comfort, really. She knew that, in all honesty, she was lying to herself. That was a rare thing, lying to make herself feel better. She almost never did it. Almost never, really...

Almost...

The kitchen was as empty as she'd known it would be, deep down. Searching the house from top to bottom in increasing panic brought no better results; Saber was still resting in her room, and other than her, the house was terribly empty.

Why? Why would he leave now, of all times? He was... he'd asked her to stay here. He clearly wanted her to stay here, so why had he left when she was supposed to be taking care of him? Didn't he want to be with her? He'd acted so much like he did, but...

 _But of course he doesn't. He was worried I would get hurt, that's all_. She thought blankly. _He doesn't care about me any more than that. He was just trying to protect me like he would any other girl he thought was in trouble. He has no feelings for me other than that, and I was... I was an idiot to think he did._

_How could I have been so stupid as to think he would love me? Why would he? I... I... I'm filthy. I'm nothing. Anyone could look at me and tell in an instant that Senpai would never be interested in me._

**_After all, I clearly deserve far, far better than him. How could anyone think he would want to be with me? That would be like an insect falling in love with a goddess. He knows his station better than to do something like that._ **

Sakura fell to her knees in shock and not a small amount of shame the moment the thought crossed her mind unbidden. It was... it hadn't been...

She hadn't thought that. She wouldn't! Such a thing would never cross her mind, not even for a heartbeat! And with it had come a sensation of such terrible pride, and a cold fury that made her sick to her stomach. It didn't... it was in her head, it was her thoughts, but it didn't feel like her. She didn't feel like herself while she was thinking that. It was just so wrong, it wasn't her at all, it was filthy and horrible and nothing she would ever consider but...

**_Don't I have every right to feel that way? Don't I deserve a bit of entitlement after all these years? I'm special. I deserve to be treated as such. I deserve better than a man who abandons me like this after all I've sacrificed for him._ **

Her worry for Shirou momentarily sidelined by mortification and fear at the horribly twisted impulses running uncontrollably through her thoughts, Sakura rose shakily to her feet. This was... she must just be tired. She was tired, and still a little sick, and desperately worried about Senpai, and all of those together were making control harder. Things were bubbling up that shouldn't have been, that was all. She just... she just needed to get some sleep, and get her mind back in order. It wasn't a problem, she didn't really believe any of those things. it was nothing but mindless lashing out, nothing more, nothing serious...

She just needed to rest, that was all.

Somewhere very dark and very cold, a pair of lovely feminine lips curved into a small smile at Sakura's obvious discomfort.

"Sleep well, child. Sleep well."

A mere touch of mind to mind, a thought springing unbidden from the darkest, most tightly locked portions of the subconscious, that was all she could manage in the waking hours. But when the girl slept, when her defenses were down...

Dreams were funny things, weren't they?

* * *

 

Something began to dawn upon Shirou as the fire in his head grew constantly worse and his limbs felt like lead weights.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he'd been feeling so much better because he hadn't actually done anything all day. Possibly all that relaxation and pampering had been making him feel better than he actually was.

And perhaps taking a long walk in the freezing cold was having a negative effect on his restored health.

Just maybe.

He could barely see straight. Each step made the fire in his blood seem a little bit hotter; already he could barely even feel the chill in the air. Each movement made his muscles feel heavier, more lifeless.

 _This is stupid. If I turn around now, I'll make it back home just fine. Maybe Sakura and Saber won't hurt me too bad if I just say I wanted to get some fresh air_. He thought. _I should just turn around._

" _You... you're leaving me all alone_?" Said the little white-haired girl in his memory.

... _Dammit_. Shirou thought, each new step making his blood burn further.

* * *

 

Sakura was cold.

This was nothing new; 'cold' was typically the least of her worries. But she wasn't at home, now. She was at the Emiya house, the one place she honestly felt safe. Protected.

Warm.

Or at least, she had fallen asleep in the Emiya house, her mind reeling and confused by senpai's absence. So how, then, had she woken in her own home? The basement, the breeding chambers? That cold, rotten Hell that made up the majority of her life?

And why was she looking at herself?

She looked down at the swarming worms, and rather than leaping at her, they gathered around a body in the central chamber that she recognized instantly as herself. 'She' lay in the horde as she always did, motionless and silent as they crawled over and into her. This was normal; to be violated by those things was no longer anything worth screaming about, to her.

But actually seeing it happen from the outside? She had to wonder _why_ she didn't scream.  
****__  
Why do you accept this?  
  
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, filling the dream... and it had to be a dream, Sakura was lucid enough to recognize this... with the echoing words. The 'Sakura' in the worm chamber did not hear them, or at least she did not react. The worms themselves continued to thrash mindlessly.

"Who...?" Sakura murmured.

**_Why do you accept this treatment? There is no need._ **

Sakura, despite herself, was curious. She could sense something odd at work here; something strangely familiar, yet alien. She realized she should probably be more worried about strange voices in it, but then, dreams often made little sense. And really, she knew as well as anyone that her mind was not... not standard. "I accept it because I have no choice. This is just how it's always been. There's..."

**_...No way out? That's a defeatist attitude, don't you think?_ **

Sakura laughed bitterly. "And I have some reason to have more confidence? This..." She gestured around the chamber. "... is my life. It always has been, for almost as long as I can remember."

**_And you simply accept this._ **

"Do I have a choice?"  
**_  
Always. But then, it's understandable that you don't see it. What else is there to expect from you? Just look at you._**

**_Trapped._ **

**_Violated._ **

**_Broken._ **

Each word jabbed into Sakura's mind like a dagger made of ice, but that hardly mattered. She was hardly unused to pain and degradation, after all. "I know all of that... I've known since I was a child. I'm just... I'm just a thing, and..."

**_And why do you accept that? Why do you not resist?_ **

"Because I couldn't succeed! Because grandfather is the one who did this to me, and he's a monster! Because I... because even if my life isn't worth living, I don't want to die! I... I just..."

**_And if there were a way to change that, would you accept it?_ **

"... what?"

**_You call him a monster, but that's because you don't fully understand the situation. Either the true nature of your captor... or your own true nature._ **

"I don't..."

**_This... pitiful display is merely what exists. You know this already. I'm here to show you what COULD be._ **

The world changed, then. The chill and rot of the worm chamber melted away, her vision blurred, there was the sensation of rapid movement although she did not take a single step. The dreamscape warped and shifted until she found herself standing outside, in Fuyuki. Atop her own high school, even.

After a fashion.

**_Beautiful, isn't it?_ **

Fuyuki City, her home, was in flames. Blood ran through the streets, and not so much as a bird in the sky or an insect in the grass could be seen alive. Dead, yes. The corpses lined the streets, many of them lazily floating in the blood the formed a grisly river through the necropolis. But nothing living.

"This... this is..." Sakura said, her eyes wide. "What happened?"

**_You, of course. You killed every single one. Impressive, but I knew you could manage._ **

"W... wh..." She gasped, unable to get the words out. "I... I... I..."

**_You took what you DESERVE. These people? The ones who lived their happy lives while you suffered? It is within your power to make them pay for it, now. Don't you want that?_ **

Sakura did not reply. Her silence was merely because, at the moment, the horror was too much for words, but the voice seemed to take it as encouragement.

**_You call your grandfather a monster? The monster is what he has forged of you, and you can USE that. You are a thing of murder, Sakura, a being wholly specialized for the destruction of life. You accept your torment because you think you cannot best him? Sakura, you can DESTROY him. Don't you want to?_ **

"No! No, none of this is..."

**_The power is within you. All you have to do is take it, and the revenge you've been denied your whole life can be yours. The power to rise above the world of flesh, and destroy them all. As they DESERVE._ **

**_Those who have hurt you. Those who have repressed you. Those who have taken the life you should have had. Those who have turned their backs on you when you needed them the most._ **

And then it really became a nightmare.

With each new sentence, a statue rose in a circle around her. Four total, appearing fluidly, as if simply flowing upwards from the concrete of the school itself. Zouken. Shinji. Rin.

Shirou.

And the voice continued. **_You still fear. That is unneeded, Sakura. You have lived your whole life in oppression, so you fear freedom. But claim your birthright, and all that can change. All the fear, all the doubt, all the pain, revenge will simply wash away._**

**_Look at them. These... ANIMALS that are less than you are. You fear them for the power they have over you, but when the world of flesh is beneath you, that fear will just vanish, I promise. After all, what need is there for you to fear anything at all? Within you is the power to destroy all who oppose you as easily as: One._ **

From somewhere just outside of Sakura's field of vision, a razor tendril of inky blackness snapped out. The statue of Zouken crumbled.

**_Two._ **

Again. Shinji's likeness fell, cut into a dozen pieces.

**_Three._ **

Rin joined the two Makiri, a pile of dust on the floor.

Sakura, horror freezing her blood, turned toward the last image, though after what she'd seen so far, she wanted to look away. More than anything, she wanted to look away.

**_Fo-_ **

"NO!" Sakura screamed, shooting upright.

She looked around herself to confirm she was indeed in her room in the Emiya manor, where she had fallen asleep. Her skin was soaked in sweat, her heart beating madly.

She was... the school? She'd been at school, and... Senpai had been in danger somehow, but from what? From...

Why couldn't she think straight? She should be able to remember this.

 _I just need to calm down. To think. I... I just need to consider what I saw, and figure out what it meant. I... it's possible_ **_that it was just a dream. Not worth worrying myself over._**

Yes, that was right. It was nothing but a dream, after all; the thought came to her clearly, calmly, reassuringly. There was no need to worry about it, to obsess over a simple nightmare she couldn't even recall clearly.

Wait.

_That's not... I don't think this one was normal. But it was I can't even recall why it was so strange, but I know that... there was SOMETHING about it... something about nee-san and Senpai? Or..._

**_Ah, of course._ **

**_It's just the consequences of trying to sleep when I was so upset over Senpai leaving. Of course I'd dream about him, I'm worried! Silly._ **

Sakura smiled slightly and shook her head in embarrassment. Really, she should have known better than to get so worked up over a silly, meaningless little dream.

* * *

 

Ilya sat on the bench, in a very foul mood.

He had _promised_. He'd said he would meet her here. At this time.

And he wasn't here. He had _lied_. Shirou had _deceived her_.

She should have seen this coming, really. How could she have been so stupid? She'd known who he was, she'd known who had raised him. Grandpapa had told her time and time again what to expect from anyone bearing the name of Emiya, and she had allowed herself to be fooled regardless. She had allowed his... his smiles and his false kindness to pierce her armor, and been hurt in response, as it always was when Einzbern and Emiya interacted. Most likely he had known who she truly was from their first meeting, allowed her to make a fool of herself so he could take her heart in his hands and shatter it mercilessly.

Well, this would not happen again, that was clear. She would never again allow Shirou to harm her. It was past time that she did what she came here to do.

"Hi, Ilya."

"Oh, hello, Shirou." She said offhandedly. Yes, when night fell, she and Berserker would go on the hunt. Her vengeance, not her family's but _hers_ , would be in that moment. Hercules would carve a vicious, bloody revenge out of Shirou's treacherous...

Wait a second.

Ilya's head snapped around to see the boy standing there; pale, sweating, but definitely present. _He came_! She squealed internally, the lion's share of her rage forgotten in a heartbeat. _He's here! He came he showed up he wants to be with... with..._

...

_He's **late**._

In truth, she wasn't angry; in a way, it was cute. He was silly and unreliable and the fact that he'd come in the end meant he really tried his best even though he was a dummy. But still, punctuality was important. It was rude to make a lady wait! Yes, she'd have to be a little bit harsh with him, just so he understood he couldn't do things like that to her. She could be late, but he couldn't. It was a _rule_.

Fighting back the smile that threatened to overwhelm her, she narrowed her eyes and frowned. "You're late, Shirou. You said you'd be here at the same time we met yesterday. I've been here for almost an hour. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Shirou smiled unsteadily. "Sorry. I... well, it took me longer to walk here than I thought."

"Um... Shirou?" Ilya asked softly, her feigned anger already beginning to dissolve at the sight of how generally wobbly he appeared. "Are you okay?"

"S-sure. Though I think maybe it might be... might be..." He trailed off, seemingly uncertain of what he'd even been planning to say. His face was flushed as red as his hair, but his hands and neck were visibly pale and clammy. More, his legs were shaking... he was trembling?

Ilya's face now showed nothing but concern. "Shirou, I'm really worried about you. Are you sure you're all riEEK!" She squealed, as Shirou began to fall forward without warning. Instinctively, she leaped forward to catch him.

This was a mistake.

With a squawk of protest that was highly unbecoming of nobility, Ilya was pushed backwards as the much larger, heavier boy fell forward on top of her. "GAH! S-Shirou! This is... um... this isn't good! You shouldn't... I mean, this is too much, so...!"

"I-Ily..." Shirou muttered, blinking a few times in confusion. Then his eyes widened in something that was somewhere between surprise and sheer horror. "OH! I'm sorry! I'm really... I just kind of blacked ou- lost my balance for a minute, and I didn't mean to..."

What followed was one of those rare, precious silences that is almost never heard in real life. As if the world had gone completely, utterly still. A single, perfect, crystalline moment when Shirou and Ilya were not even breathing. Not even blinking. One could have made a convincing argument that their hearts were not even beating.

Considering that, in bringing his hands beneath himself to try to push himself up and to his feet, Shirou had managed to place one of his palms far-too-firmly on Ilya's chest, he probably would have noticed if her heart was beating.

Tears of humiliation filling her eyes, Ilya looked up at Shirou. He had not yet moved his hand. Perhaps he thought that she would forget it was there if he didn't move it.

She _wouldn't_ , of course. Oh, how she wouldn't. But Shirou was a young man, and it is important for a young man to be optimistic and dream big.

" _Shirouuuuuu_..." Ilya growled.

"I'm sorry?" Shirou said. Or asked. It wasn't clear from his tone, and honestly he might not have known himself. If he'd been thinking clearly, after all, he probably would have had the sense to take his hand off of Ilya's chest.

A loud, sharp sound briefly rang through the park.

Shortly after, Shirou and Ilya sat silently next to each other on a bench. Anyone looking on would notice that Shirou had a very strange marking on his left cheek. Almost like a hand-print, but more vaguely shaped; as if someone wearing a mitten had slapped him across the face.

With surprising force, considering how small she was.

It had really stung.

"... Sorry about that." Shirou said again.

"Dummy," Ilya muttered.

"It was an accident." He said miserably.

"W-well... I guess I can forgive you this once. But that's moving too fast. It's only our second date!" Ilya said, blushing furiously.

"Yeah, I... wait, what?"

"Nothing." Ilya said. Then slowly, almost reluctantly, the irritation began to leak out of her tone to be replaced once more with concern. "Um... Shirou... are you all right? You seem sick."

"Nah. It's nothing, really, just..." Shirou trailed off briefly, shaking his head as if to clear it. "... just a cold. Or something like that; I'm fine."

"No you're not." Ilya said softly. A cold? Mana deprivation. She could sense the flow of energy through his magic circuits and it was vastly diminished from the already low capacity she'd felt yesterday. It was no wonder he was falling over, his whole life-force seemed pale and pathetic.

Someone had done this to him deliberately, fed on his mana. Whoever had hurt her Shirou had better hope she never found them. She would have to keep a closer eye on him, that was clear. Saber was simply not up to the task of keeping him safe.

"Excuse me?" Shirou asked.

"You're not fine at all." She said flatly. "You should be resting... I would have understood if you told me you couldn't come because you were sick." (This was, it should be noted, probably not true. But Ilya was a fickle girl, and not often given to common sense).

Shirou smiled at her brilliantly, if a bit shakily. "I know. But I promised you I would be here, didn't I? I couldn't break my word to a lady."

Ilya had to look away from his eyes again, though this time to hide a blush so intense it looked like her face would catch fire. "I... um... I... um... uh... you... ... ... thanks."

Shirou smiled slightly at how shy she'd suddenly become. Her emotional state really was halfway-impossible to predict. And, well... maybe it was just the fact that his mind was still kind of fuzzy, but she seemed impossibly cute right this moment; even more fragile and fairy-like than she'd been in the moonlight the night they'd met.

 _Whoa, careful there. People will start thinking we're on a date again_. He chided himself.

_We kind of **are** , aren't we?_

... ... _oh well_. He thought. He probably would have been more worried about it if he hadn't been struggling to keep his eyes open. It seemed that with the adrenaline from his little... accident... wearing off, he was starting to revert back to the natural state of things, which was 'asleep'. "Sorry..." He said softly, his eyes drifting closed. "I said I'd meet you, but it... it looks like we won't get much talking... ..."

Ilya let out a small squeak as something warm and soft leaned onto her when she wasn't looking, but this was not so much a 'fall' as a gentle slump. She was able to direct Shirou's descent somewhat, so that rather than crushing her again, he simply fell gently onto her, his head ending up...

Er.

Well.

In her lap.

This was less embarrassing than being crushed, but not by as much as you'd think.

"U-um... Shirou? Shirou, this is... you shouldn't be..." She said weakly. If her blushing face had looked like it was going to catch fire before, it now looked like it would ignite the entire park. Her skin was as red as her eyes.

Shirou made a soft sound in his throat, snuggling instinctively against something warm and soft. Ilya looked down at his sleeping face, her voice catching in her throat.

Slowly, gently, her expression of embarrassment melted into a gentle smile. She pressed one hand to his cheek.

"Shirou." She said, softly running her hand down his face and neck, drinking in the details of his sleeping form, smiling as his expression grew less troubled with the simple physical contact.

Sella and Leysritt would be worried. She had truly planned to spend only an hour or so here, and knew she had already done this. She really shouldn't have stayed any longer.

But there was no force on Earth that could have made her wake him up at that moment.


	10. Nightfall on the Mountain

Kotomine Kirei considered the situation, and was not amused.

Ryudou Temple was not an easy place to peer into, even for him. He wished, slightly, that he had not felt the need to keep Lancer penned the previous night; looking back, he most likely should have sent the Servant to study the situation personally. He doubted that even his orders would have kept the man from entering to personally battle anything he found, but at least Lancer's death would have provided Kirei with some much-needed intelligence on exactly what had occurred at the mountain temple.

Someone or something was still draining life from the inhabitants of the town, but it no longer felt like Caster's work. In addition, the mystical territory erected inside the mountain's natural boundary field had changed substantially; a far less elegant work than that which the Magus Servant had maintained. And, irritatingly, a work that Kirei recognized, to some degree.

Zouken Makiri.

Ugh.

Kirei was not the most 'normal' of individuals, he knew this. Indeed, he couldn't help but know it; he had spent many, many years dealing with his thoroughly empty personality, a hollow shell of a man that could only be filled with the pain of others. Nobody was more aware than he of what a monster he truly was, how unnatural an existence he possessed. He had been tormented by his true nature and its conflict with his upbringing since he was a child.

But at the very least, even on those rare occasions that his conscience (yes, despite what anyone else might say, he did have one) flared up, he could always say 'At least I'm not Zouken'. The elderly Magus disgusted him, repelled him in every way and on every level. Kirei was, after all, completely selfless in his own way. His means of doing so was bizarre, perhaps, but he cared only for other people.

'Selfless' was not a term that could be applied to Zouken Makiri in any way, shape, or form.

If the old worm was planning something, moving actively... Makiri understood the Grail better than anyone. It was very possible that Zouken's plans for it would interfere with Kirei's game, and that had to prevented, obviously.

But more than that, Kirei simply hated the man. If there was something Zouken wanted, then Kirei wanted him not to have it. It was, in the end, as simple as that. But to accomplish this, he needed information. Lancer was not the best scout, but he was the only option Kirei had... the 'shared vision' magic he used to see through his Servant's eyes was not something that Gilgamesh would allow from anyone. Something about 'commoners seeing through the king's eyes being a sin' or somesuch.

And so tonight, Lancer would get his wish. He would go to Ryudou, free to kill anything he met. And while he indulged his bloodlust, Kirei would see all that he saw, and with luck discern the truth of the situation. The possibility of even Cu Chulainn not returning from the obvious trap that Makiri had made of the mountain was significant, but...

Well, Lancer wasn't a bad dog to own, but pets didn't last forever.

* * *

 

Shirou was cold, but it didn't feel bad.

Far from unpleasant, the chill in the air was soothing, gentle. He lay in the middle of a snowy field, his arms spread out, letting the snow gently fall onto him and swirl around him, quite content and relieved. His body was burning hot, after all, and it the million individual snowflakes falling on it one-by-one brought an impossible sense of comfort, extinguishing the flames wherever they touched. After a day of pain and blazing heat, everything was finally soft and cool and occasionally, every once in a awhile a flake would land on his parched lips and just cool down everything and he...

... he simply felt...

... oddly warm, actually. At least in the area around his right ear. And most of the softness was there too, though there were a certain sensation on the other side of his head, as if something soft were gently brushing against his cheek. Ha ha... he thought, actually awake enough at this point to realize that he wasn't actually reclining in a snowfield, it had been another dream. _Silly_. He thought, groggily but happily _Though I feel awfully weird... what's wrong with my face? Soft and warm on one side, brushing on the other... hee, it's like I have my head in someone's lap and they're stroking my face._

He thought about that for a second.

Really thought about it. Thought about where he'd been when everything had gone black, and what he had been doing, and most of all who he had been with.

And for the second time in two days, Shirou's thought processes could best be defined as, _Oh, shit._

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was having another dream. Maybe he would open his eyes and see his own bedroom, and wouldn't see the one thing he was most terrified of seeing.

He tilted his head upwards slightly and opened his eyes.

_Oh, **shit**_ **.**

Ilya smiled down on him, a warm, gentle expression of pure contentment. "Hello," She said, her hand continuing to gently stroke the side of his face. She looked deeply happy, and peaceful, and Shirou had to admit that her fairy-like otherworldly beauty had never been more clear. And so he reacted to this lovely sight in the only way he knew how.

"GAH!" Shirou snapped, rolling off her as quickly as he possibly could and, rather than taking the time to get to his feet, scuttled rapidly away from her like a terrified hermit crab.

"Um... Shirou...?" Ilya asked nervously. "Is something wrong?"

"Y-y-yes!" Shirou said. "Yes, something is wrong! I... we... you... lap!"

"... huh?" Ilya asked. An eloquent princess, she was.

"This is... ... ..." Shirou trailed off, moving his arms vaguely. Finally he pointed at her and said, "Too young!"

"... ... ..." Ilya said.

"This is... God, did anyone see us? This is really bad, I could get arrested, all the neighbors will think I'm a pervert, I..." He stopped mid-sentence, blinking a few times in confusion. Slowly, but steadily, he rose to his feet. "... I feel really good."

"Y-you're refreshed from your nap! You must have been really tired!" Ilya said quickly, a furious blush rising to her cheeks. Really, she probably shouldn't have taken the time to rejuvenate his magic circuits, but he was so sickly and helpless and she had plenty to spare, and she only gave him a bit, just to get him back on his feet, and...

And...

And she'd only kissed him once or twice. It wasn't like she'd wanted to! It was just... well... a certain amount of contact was needed, just a little bit, and... and it was needed, really, the absolute minimum contact possible! Seriously! She wouldn't have done it if she'd had any other choice, even if it had been kind of nice and...

Her blush deepened. Yes, it might be best simply not to share that little detail.

"I... I guess I was." Shirou said, raising one hand and flexing it experimentally. The bone-deep fatigue, the pain, the fever; they were all gone, as if they'd never existed. He felt as good as he had any day of his life. "I'm surprised that a few minutes of sleep helped that much..."

"A few minutes?" Ilya asked in confusion.

Shirou's eyes widened.

For the second time in his association with Ilya, the sun was not in the right place in the sky.

"Ilya..." Shirou asked. "How long was I asleep?"

"Um... a few hours?" Ilya said. "I'm not sure."

"... ... ... ... ..." Shirou said. He tried to say something more, but oddly no sound came out.

"It was nice. You're cute when you sleep."

"Ilya," Shirou said. His voice sounded cold and dead.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you much today. But I really was tired. And I really, _really_ have to leave."

"Oh..." Ilya said, blushing furiously for some reason Shirou didn't want to think too hard about. "That's okay. I had a... I had a really nice time anyway. So... so can I see you again tomorrow?"

"Sure, of course, I..." He trailed off, wondering exactly why he had agreed so quickly, or indeed why he kept humoring her at all. It wasn't like he had any real reason to. Sure, she took his mind off his troubles very well; hell, with Shinji and Tohsaka after his throat, Saber pushing him to more and more conflict despite herself, and Sakura's health in an odd state of flux, Ilya had become one of a rapidly diminishing handful of bright spots in his life. She was bizarre, and confusing, and just in general a massive complication (particularly in how she kept tearing the hearts out of his afternoons), but well...

She was nice. It was nice to spend time with her. And she liked it too, and if it made them both happy, then...

Shirou smiled at her. "I'm not sure... there's some people who aren't very happy that I'm leaving all the time to see you. But I'll try my best."

Ilya's smile lit up the park and confirmed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had made the correct choice.

Then he considered what awaited him at home, and thought that maybe, just maybe, doubt should have gone to the effort of casting bigger shadows.

"Um... Ilya?"

"Yes, Shirou?"

"I really would like to see you again, but... it can't be for this long. These long meetings really aren't good for my health, in a lot of ways..."

* * *

 

"I am going to break his legs and tie him up in his bedroom." Saber said.

See? Shirou is a pretty smart guy.

"Saber-san." Sakura chided her. _Honestly, she shouldn't be so hostile even if she's not wrong._

"He is ill. He is alone. He could be in danger from any number of enemies." Saber said. "And once again, I have no idea where to look for him unless he calls for me. If that fool dies..."

Sakura giggled, though the sound was obviously forced. "I'm... sure it won't come to that."

"It shall not." Saber agreed. "Because when he gets home, he shall be under my watch for as long as the W- as long as I am in this country. This shall _not_ happen again."

"Saber-san... please, don't be angry at senpai. I'm sure he had a good reason for-" **_Abandoning me_**. "-Leaving. It was my fault, I was supposed to be watching him..."

"No." Saber said. " _I_ was supposed to be watching him. But I was not vigilant, and shirked my duty because I believed he could be trusted. Clearly I was wrong."

 ** _I could have told you he wasn't trustworthy. And you, worming your way into my life and acting like you belong here, you interfering THING... You two DESERVE each other_** _._ Sakura... thought. _No, that doesn't seem right. I wouldn't be_... **_it must have been that nightmare. I'm in a foul mood_** _._

Yes, that made sense. It had been such a discomforting dream, and it had interfered with her nap, it was only natural to be a bit upset. She was just... worried, that was all. She had been so happy, and now Senpai was just gone, and she _needed_ him. As soon as he came home, it would be all right again.

It would be.

The sound of the front door sliding open echoed down the hall, and it would have taken a camera to determine which of the girls leapt from their seat more quickly. Saber was, obviously, faster, but Sakura very much wanted it more. She wanted to be the first one to that door, the first to show her displeasure that he had left, the first to forgive him, the first to welcome him home with a smile. She very much wanted to be the first to see...

"Fujimura-sensei!" She said, screeching to a halt in her charge for the door. Of course. There was, after all, one other person besides Senpai and herself who had a key to the house. Taiga would not have to knock or ring the bell, she could simply walk in... and had, in fact. Carrying something that smelled very, very cheap and very, very fried.

 _Honestly, Fujimura-sensei, that is your idea of bringing home something nutritious for dinne_ r? Sakura thought in some combination of exasperation and amusement. Still, she was a bit worried... she couldn't quite keep the disappointment from either her face or her tone, and Taiga could be shockingly observant at times.

"Hiiiiiii, girls! I got something yummy to eat, so nobody has to cook tonight! Shirouuuuuuuuu! I'm hoooooooooooome!" Taiga said.

And, well, other times Taiga wasn't all that observant.

Sakura chuckled nervously. "Er... well, thank you, but I'm afraid that... well, Senpai seems to have..."

"Shirou has left without permission. I take responsibility for this lapse in security." Saber said.

Taiga considered this for a moment.

" _WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT_?"

Sakura winced. _Saber-san, there's such a thing as 'breaking the news gently'..._

"Oh, that little...! Make a fool out of me twice, will he? Well that's it! I'll break his legs and lock him in his room!"

"Yes, this is acceptable." Saber said.

"That's right!" Taiga said, throwing her arms around Saber's shoulders. "It's for his own protection, isn't it? That dummy wanders around town at all hours; he could pass out in a ditch and die of illness! He could be murdered! He could get me _fired_. We need to keep him under closer watch, for his own protection!"

Sakura blinked. "S-sensei... how is securing your career protecting senpai?"

Taiga's eyes bore the chill of the arctic tundra. "It's protecting him from _me_. I'm going to go eat. Saber-chan?"

"Hunger is the enemy." Saber said, following Taiga towards the kitchen to devour whatever horrible thing she had determined to be 'healthy dinner'.

Sakura tried to laugh this off, but it was rather difficult. _They were joking about breaking his legs... right?_

The girl sighed softly, following them after a brief pause. _Senpai... why did you have to leave? Everything would be so much simpler if you had just stayed..._

Behind her, the door slid open once again. Unable to keep the smile off her face, she whirled, a greeting on her lips...

She stopped dead, her face going pale, the greeting dying unspoken.

"What's the matter?" Shinji Matou asked, leaning on the doorway. "It's only polite to greet your brother."

"N... nii-san..." Sakura breathed.

Shinji did not look well. His skin was two shades too pale, his hair was matted with sweat, and his eyes were sunken with dark bags beneath them. Rin would have been very amused to see how well her curse had taken hold; up to this point, he had been mostly trapped in bed.

Sakura wasn't in a position to appreciate it, unfortunately. In fact, to her the poor condition of his body only seemed to highlight the fact that there was nothing even remotely sane in his eyes...

"What..." He said. "Are you doing here, Sakura? Who told you that you could stay here...?"

"S-senpai s..."

"What makes you think," Shinji growled. "That you have the right to humiliate me like this? Abandoning your family for this _nobody_? Neglecting your duties? Come with me. We're going home, _now_."

 _No! No!_ Sakura thought, paralyzed, tears already forming in her eyes. Things were... things were finally good. She was... this was where she was supposed to be safe. But now nii-san had come for her, and with him a taste of painful reality: there was no safe place. He was going to drag her back to Hell with him, where she belon-

 ** _I don't have to go with him, though_** **.** She thought.

_But... but if I don't, he'll..._

_... ... ... **What will he do? He's nothing. Less than nothing. I could kill him where he stands, right now, with less effort than it would take to swat a fly.**_

"Now come on." Shinji growled, though Sakura could barely hear him over the blood pounding in her ears. Her vision had gone red, and all she could see was the motion beneath the skin of his neck; blood pumping through his carotid artery. So close to the surface. It would be so easy to just cut it, wouldn't it?

**_Do it. He deserves it. Don't worry, your body knows how, even if your mind doesn't. Just let go. I promise you it will be easy and it will feel better than anything you could possibly imagine..._ **

Shinji lunged forward and clamped a hand onto her arm. He was not gentle, but it didn't hurt. He pulled, but she felt no pressure. "Come _on_. What are you waiting for, bitch? I said we're going home, so _obey_!"

**_Do it._ **

"What is wrong with you?" Shinji snarled, nervousness beginning to enter his mind for the first time. She was supposed to just listen, blankly. His doll was not supposed to disagree with him in any way, but...

**_Do it._ **

Slowly, almost lazily, Sakura raised her free hand. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, but focused on Shinji's throat with unnerving intensity, and just for a second, so quickly that it was almost imperceptible, it seemed that something dark danced between her outstretched fingers...

An arm sheathed in a white sweater clamped down on Shinji's wrist, twisting if off of Sakura with enough force to make the boy openly gasp in pain.

"The Master of this house," Saber said coldly, "Is not home. Entering uninvited is the height of rudeness. Assaulting a guest is beyond the pale. Now, will you agree to leave peacefully, or shall I eject you?"

Sakura lowered her hand, the red haze fading from her eyes with the sudden shock. "S-saber-san...?"

"L-let go of me you-" Shinji began, cutting off with a yelp of agony as Saber twisted his arm with enough force to bring it to just shy of the breaking point.

"You are an intruder and you were harming an invited guest. You should be happy your arm is still attached." Saber said calmly. Leaning forward, she whispered softly into his ear, "And do not think I have forgotten our first meeting, murderer. If Sakura were not present, you would no longer be breathing."

"S-Saber-san! Really, it was my fault! Don't... don't hurt him..." **_That's my job_.** "I'll just... I'll... go with him, and..."

"Do you want to?" Saber asked coolly. "Because you are Shirou's guest, and welcome in this home until he says you are not. No-one but he has the right to make you leave against your will."

"N-no, Saber-san, if I stay here I'll only be... I'll only be causing trouble, so..." Sakura said.

"I'm her brother!" Shinji snapped. "And she hasn't got any rights that I don't..."

Saber twisted his arm. Just a bit. Something made a cracking noise.

"Gah!" Shinji said.

"Very well, Sakura. If you truly wish, I will not stop you from leaving with this... individual..." Saber said. "Though I would advise against it. Family or no, he is unsavory."

"I... I'll go get my things..." Sakura muttered. She didn't have much to get, but... well. What little she had, she should try to hold on to.

"Don't bother." Shinji growled, finally pulling free of Saber and staring at the Servant with undisguised venom in his eyes. "We're going. _Now_."

"B-but nii-san..."

" _Don't talk back to me_!"

The sound of his open palm striking Sakura's cheek was painfully loud in the enclosed hallway.

Saber's eye twitched.

* * *

 

 _I'm not late! I'm not late! I'm not late_! Shirou thought.

Hey, chanting it hadn't worked last time. Maybe wishing really hard would help. He knew he couldn't possibly be on time, but maybe something would have happened to take the heat off him, or...

Someone sort of run-limped past him as he sprinted home, and though Shirou didn't get a good look at him in his own mad dash, for just a moment he thought it was Shinji.

But why would Shinji be so close to his house with the War in full swing? And more importantly, why would he be limping?

And holding his nose?

And his ribs?

Shirou decided that he was really in too much trouble on his own to actually deal with that at the moment. He rounded the corner, sprinted the remaining distance to the door... and stopped dead.

The door was already open. Saber stood in it, an incensed expression on her face and blood on her clenched fist. It was not her own blood. Sakura stood behind her, jaw agape.

"S-S-S-S-S-Saber-san...!" Sakura gasped.

"Sakura. You," Saber said, "May stay here as long as you wish, secure in the knowledge that I will protect you. That... _thing_... has no right to be called your brother. If he attempts to harm you again, his life is forfeit."

She then turned to Shirou, and said, simply, "You are in a great deal of trouble."

Then, without another word, she walked back into the house in search of dinner.

Sakura and Shirou watched her go in stunned silence.

Finally, Sakura said, very softly, "Welcome home, Senpai."

* * *

 

It should go without saying that Shirou would be staying home, that night. He and Saber had no plans, no time to make a plan, Sakura to watch over, and he legitimately believed that after the tongue-lashing Fuji-nee gave him, she would probably somehow _sense_ if he left the house at any time that day. But just because one Master and Servant were home-bound, that didn't mean the Holy Grail War would not continue.

Night fell, starless and cold, and Lancer strode through the gates of Ryudou Temple without fear.

Or so he'd have told anyone who asked, and indeed he did not _appear_ to be afraid. But there were hints as to his true emotional state, for those who knew what to look for. The biggest was the spear, of course... Gae Bolg, his great lance, the symbol of his identity as a Heroic Spirit. The weapon could be summoned instantaneously, with less than a thought. There was no reason to carry it in his hands... unless he felt that the millisecond it took to materialize was still too much time to go unarmed.

The second hint as to his nervousness was that he wouldn't shut up.

"Hmmmmmmm... the boundary field here has changed. Caster's work was much smoother," He said idly. "And all these things... ugh, I hate bugs."

The area around the temple buzzed. This boundary field was weird indeed if it did something like that; beetles, slugs, leeches, spiders, nasty crawling things of all types seemed to be drawn to it. Or maybe they were producing it?

"Well, either way it's nasty," Lancer said, idly stomping a centipede that skittered too close. "And the smell doesn't improve things. This whole place reeks of mildew and bloody water and..."

... _sand_?

The knives came from nowhere, each one aimed at a lethal point; the eyes, the neck, the heart, the lungs, the kidneys. The blades were blacker than the night behind them, moving with the speed of bullets and curving in at impossible angles. Any normal target would be struck a dozen times before they even realized they were under attack, killed in seconds.

Which served only to make it all the more impressive when Lancer weathered the storm unscathed. Gae Bolg struck, spinning in its wielder's nimble hands to bat each blade out of the air like a cat chasing after a fly on the wall. The knives themselves remained unseen, but the sparks that leapt up as the crimson spear slashed aside each one lit up the blackened temple.

Lancer grinned at the white skull now openly visible against the darkness, leveling his weapon at it. "Well, well... I guess with all these bugs around, I shouldn't be surprised to find a sand worm lurking in the shadows. Assassin, right? Not bad, but not good enough!"

The only reply was another flurry of daggers, covering the white skull's retreat as it leapt further backward into the abandoned Temple. Lancer briefly considered the possibility of a trap but quickly enough decided to go in anyway; all of the monks had cleared out long ago, so there was no need to worry about tripping over anyone.

More importantly, however, Lancer was finally off the leash and had permission to deal with this Servant in any way he chose.

He chose stabbing.

A wolfish grin on his face and Gae Bolg effortlessly striking aside the daggers as though the invisible projectiles were pieces of cotton fluff lightly floating in his path, Lancer charged.

The sound of metal on metal rang out loudly, even so far as the temple steps. At this time of night, of course, there was almost never anyone near the sacred mountain, and nobody would hear a thing...

Usually.

* * *

 

"What do you know?" Rin said in mild bemusement. "Emiya's information was dead-on. First the monks have to abandon the Temple, and now someone's holding a running fight up there? Looks like something really _is_ rotten on the mountaintop."

"Shall we act as before? Take up sniping position and try to deal with both at once?" Archer asked.

"That will be hard in this terrain... how about the tried and true method?" Rin asked. "Let them fight until one dies, then take down the survivor while he's exhausted."

"You're finally starting to think like a winner." Archer said, nodding his agreement. "Though perhaps part of it is that Shirou Emiya isn't in the crosshairs this ti-"

"If you finish that sentence I will hurt you."

"Tell me, how many times have you used that scrying gem to check on Sakura...?"

Rin muttered something unintelligible.

"I can't hear you."

"Only twice!" She snapped. "Now let's... let's go fight a war, dammit!"

"You're a marshmallow, Master."

"Shut up!"

* * *

 

The white skull was fast. _Very_ fast. Lancer was the most agile of the Servants, but this creature's bizarre scuttling down hallways and up walls was as quick on the retreat as he was. And the entire time, those knives continued to rain down, dark against the darkness, imperceptible and fast as bullets.

And they continued to be batted aside by Lancer as though each and every one were glowing in the dark and moving at a snail's pace, even as he closed the gap. Assassin might have been able to match his retreating speed, leaping back like some kind of bizarre antelope-sized scorpion, but Lancer's charge was unequaled and this thing could not escape him forever.

It was the main prayer chamber that brought things to a head, the wide open space allowing Lancer to finally clear that final distance. Even as Assassin skittered across the floor, Lancer made one final leap, his blade leading the way at the white skull in the darkness. _Even if I can't take your head on the first stroke, let's see if we can't get that mask off, Mr. Killer_...!

He hit empty air, and nobody was more shocked than him. The spot of darkness against the blackened temple flowed, twisting at an impossible angle to let the spear pass by harmlessly, and striking at Lancer by sliding alongside the shaft of Gae Bolg, the arm holding another knife curving in, a bizarre hooked blow...

And not one that Lancer intended to let land.

The fun thing about spears is that the point is not the part you really have to watch for. Lancer's speed and strength were such that he could afford to fight mostly in lightning-fast thrusts, but in reality the most dangerous way to strike with a lance would always be a wide-angle swipe, taking advantage of the weapon's vast range. Lancer did this now, driving Gae Bolg sideways with all of his considerable strength and slamming the shaft of the weapon into the side of Assassin's head, sending the black figure sprawling... but not in a the way Lancer would have hoped.

The skull mask went flying, but the Assassin fluidly caught hold of the wooden floor and dug in, steadying his fall and quickly coming to his feet. Lancer leapt back, weapon at the ready, eyes narrowed.

"Damn, you move like an insect from a distance but up close you're like a serpent. They don't teach _that_ in the desert!" Lancer admitted, slightly impressed in spite of himself. He'd been expecting to slash the black figure's throat open, at least, and instead he'd managed nothing more than a bump on the head. This might be fun after all!

Assassin, the face beneath the white skull unreadable in the darkness, spoke for the first time. "And you... those daggers were thrown so they could not be seen, yet you deflected each one..." His voice had a slight hiss to it, but was beyond that surprisingly dull for such a bizarre creature; flat, hollow, almost totally devoid of emotion. As he spoke, he knelt to reclaim his lost skull mask, fixing it back atop his face.

Lancer smirked. "Sorry. If I can see the origin point, projectiles can't really hurt me unless they're a great Noble Phantasm. Those little daggers are easy to stop even if I can't see them, your bloodlust gives them away."

"Ah... Protection from Arrows?" Assassin rumbled. "Fitting. A great skill for a true Hero with a noble name. As for myself, well, a rotten killer doesn't have any exceptional powers like that. I must make do."

Lancer's smirk became a feral snarl. "Not for much longer."

And once again, he charged. Assassin did not wait for him, of course; leaping up to the rafters and using them as a springboard to launch himself out the overlooking window. Lancer, never one to disappoint someone who clearly wanted to die (if he wanted to live, why pick a fight with Lancer?), made the same jump in a single straight leap and followed in hot pursuit.

Archer stood atop Ryudou Temple, watching as the two Servants burst from the window and made their mad dash across the courtyard. The black blur of Assassin barely rustled the grass; the azure hurricane of Lancer flattened it. The silent shadow and the roaring wind tore through the rear grounds of the temple, and Lancer was clearly in command; Assassin made no moves to attack, retreating across the lake behind the Temple without any resistance, the spearman closing quickly.

Assassin reached the opposite shore, Lancer sprinting across the top of the water...

And Hell came to Ryudou Temple.

"What... what...?" Rin gasped from her place behind Archer, trying and failing to comprehend what she saw.

In an instant, Lancer went from clearly in control to on the brink of death. Bubbling up madly from all over the lake, like some primordial sea monster, massive inky black tendrils began to rip free from the depths, snarling around Lancer, seeking to pull the Servant beneath the water. The hunger was almost palpable... this thing wanted to devour Lancer, every hair, every cell. A monstrous curse that saw even a Heroic Spirit as nothing but food...

* * *

 

"Archer... what am I looking at?" Rin snapped, wide-eyed, sounding on the verge of hysterics. Archer could not blame her; even just the presence of the thing made the world seem infinitely darker.

"I don't know." He said. And he didn't, but some part of him...

The deepest, darkest part, that answered to a higher authority than Rin Tohsaka.

_So, this is what I was summoned here to stop._

* * *

 

Assassin chuckled dryly. "Overconfident, Lancer. It lead to this, and there is no escape for you. But don't worry, it won't eat your heart." He said, moving aside the wrappings on his twisted stump of an arm. "That's mine..."

Cu Chulainn was no fool, and more than a mere spearman. He was a master of the runic magics of the Celtic highlands, and all the runes in his possession were now inscribed on the lake bottom, a barrier that should have prevented nearly any assault.

They were worthless. Enough power to halt an army, and they barely slowed the encroaching tendrils of this bizarre, mindlessly lashing thing that had turned the lake into a nightmare. All that was clear was that he needed to get away from it. He could not touch it, could not fight it, above all else could not be swallowed by it. He needed to think, just a moment… some way to break free, counter attack, to do _anything…_

"Do you think I cannot reach you? Overconfident again..." Assassin said, the arm beneath the bandages unfolding, joints in the wrong places...

Lancer paid it no heed. The first thing he needed to do was escape the greater danger, and that meant getting off the water. Gathering what power he could, he leapt, nearly thirty meters, out of the reach of the creature and far from Assassin...

The attack came from nowhere. An impossible distance, a formless attack to gore him through the heart from across the lake.

 _Zabaniya_. The power of Assassin, the hand of the demon Shaitan. Once the seal on his arm was released, the curse of Zabaniya could create an illusionary duplicate of the target's heart, and upon impaling it… the real thing would meet the same fate. An impossible, unstoppable curse that should have slain the distracted Lancer in a single blow.

There were only two ways to defeat the attack. First, damage the arm used to create it before Assassin could impale the illusory heart. Second... to dispel the curse itself with a superior magical energy.

A flare of magic blew Zabaniya away, the curse met, matched, and overwhelmed in a matter of seconds. Lancer went through his leap uninterrupted and landed on the banks of the lake, wondering what the Hell had just happened. He'd been caught totally off-guard, Assassin had him cold. So how was he alive, now...?

Amid the tentacles, where before there had been nothing but darkness and thrashing water, a woman stood. Beautiful, in a cold way; her skin and hair were both pale, marble white, making her appear almost a statue. The tips of her ears were delicately pointed, her eyes were solid, discomforting black as if they contained nothing but a pupil. The robes she wore looked like nothing so much as the Shadow itself woven into cloth, wreathing her body in darkness with only the occasional streak of red, like fresh blood. Black flame danced between her fingers, the remnants of the curse she had just effortlessly dispelled.

"Boys, boys," She purred, her voice rich and luscious, filled with obvious amusement. "Fighting over me?"

"What..." Lancer said.

"The..." Assassin said.

... _Hell_? Archer thought.

Caster smiled a dark, satisfied smile. "Well, then, time to get to work, I think." She brought her hands together sharply, and a wave of power flooded the mountain.

Almost instantly, spiders, leeches, and slugs began to die as the boundary field which sustained them was destroyed and overwritten. A deeper chill filled the already cool night; the air felt thick, heavy. Rin began breathing more deeply, as if she couldn't get enough oxygen in each breath, and even the Servants felt their limbs grow heavier as the oppressive boundary field bore down on them.

The Temple of Medea, reborn in blood and chaos.

And the night grew darker.


	11. Season of the Witch

It was a catastrophe of epic proportions. The single worst disaster that had ever befallen this world. A thing of corruption and destruction that despoiled all it touched.

"Ojou-sama has been out of the house all day. More than once…" Sella, the elder and less cheerful of Ilya's maids (not that this was immediately obvious, since for both of them the largest visible reaction they commonly showed was a sort of mild stare) murmured.

Out of the house. All day. More than once.

_Horrible._

"If Ojou-sama desires it, we have no right to question her tactics in this War." Leysritt reminded her 'sister'. The two maids conspired outside the door to Ilya's bedroom, the Clan Einzbern's pride and joy having skipped in, danced up the stairs whistling, and practically leapt into bed to cuddle her teddy bear and giggle. "She is the pride of the Einzbern. We are mere failures, to be used and cast aside. Should she wish to pursue an unorthodox strategy…"

"She is not pursuing _any_ strategy!" The elder twin snapped. "She goes out every day, and returns every night when the fighting begins! Not a single Master has fallen or even been encountered."

(It should be noted that this last was not exactly true, as Ilya had in fact encountered one of the other Masters and let him take a nap using her lap as a pillow. But Ilya had not shared the details of her daily outings with her attendants, so Sella had no real way of knowing this.)

"Ojou-sama has assured us that her outings each day, and return each night, are crucial to her overall plans," (This _was_ exactly true, but Ilya had deliberately left out the fact that her overall plans had less to do with winning the Holy Grail War and more to do with going on dates.) "She deliberately pursues a plan she believes the other Masters will not predict, and rightly understands that our own, inferior, minds will not be able to properly comprehend it."

"Still, the Lord requested that we guide and foster Lady Ilyasviel, push her onto the right path, and facilitate her victory in the War. At the moment, we have only her word for it that she is even participating in the Holy Grail War, and… forgive me for saying as much… Ojou-sama is… rather flighty."

" _Sella_."

"I know! It pains me to say it as well." Sella said, with a slight (very slight, almost invisible) wince. "But our duty from the Lord Einzbern is very clear. We must speak with Ojou-sama regarding her plans, and see if her daily activities are, indeed, in the best interests of the Clan. And if they are not, we must set her back on the course to bring glory to the family, as is her destiny. If needed, we shall… we shall… … chastise her."

There was silence for several minutes.

"Perhaps in the morning."

"If Ojou-sama is in a good mood."

"A very good mood."

"And if Berserker is asleep."

" _Very_ asleep."

Their course of very, very careful action decided, the two maids left to continue their duties. The castle was huge and would not clean itself, after all. (Honestly, you would have thought that after 1,000 years, someone would have devised a spell for that).

Though she gave no outward sign of her dissatisfaction, Sella could not help but think, _Honestly… Ojou-sama and her fickle moods… truly, I have the worst of all possible lives._

* * *

 

Zouken Matou fell to his knees, gasping in anguish. Black blood flowed freely from his ears, nose, and from beneath his fingernails. His very existence could be defined as 'living pain'.

So, the point here would be that perhaps Sella was overestimating the severity of her own situation.

Still, if there was one thing that Zouken was familiar with, it was pain. Agony was his constant companion, no matter what body he took, and he knew how to focus his mind through it well enough. And so, even as his body fell to pieces, his mind worked in overdrive to discern _why_.

The backlash from the loss of so many familiars at once had been considerable, but nothing he could not have handled under normal circumstances. However, this particular loss had been laced with something else… a cold, aching hunger that had actually traced his connection to his familiars back to him, striking directly at his essence and attempting to devour him from the inside out. Had his core not been safely elsewhere, he most likely would have been killed instantly. As it was, his current body was most certainly cut down to a fraction of its expected lifespan; he would need to replace it, and soon.

One of his eyes fell out, trailing more of that foul-smelling black blood and small, weakly writhing worms.

Apparently, he would need to replace it _very_ soon.

How had this happened? It made less than no sense. Assassin had played his part perfectly at the Temple. Lancer had been lured into an inescapable situation, the second sacrifice to the Grail. The weapon had attacked, as planned, eager to devour its second meal.

And then, from within the heart of Zouken's own secret weapon, she had emerged.

 _Caster_.

She had survived. He didn't know how she had survived, but she had. More than that, she had opposed him, entered the darkness and emerged with at least some vestige of her mind intact! Even if she had returned, she should have been altered beyond recognition, warped into nothing more than a tool of the Shadow, a method by which it could expand its power and influence. And yet… she had not.

How had this happened? A Servant had entered the Holy Grail, and returned. Not merely alive but free and thriving. Under other circumstances, it might have been intriguing indeed; a new facet of the Grail's functions to explore and possibly exploit.

Under the current ones, with all his plans for the future poised on the edge of a knife, the success and failure of his life's ambitions a single error apart… it simply worried him a great, great deal.

* * *

 

Lancer tried his hardest to keep from staring in open amazement. He couldn't afford the lapse in judgment.

As hard as it was for him to admit, the Shadow… frightened him. It was simply something he couldn't comprehend, a thing that screamed into the core of his being that he could not defeat it, could not fight it, could not even touch it; to do so would mean his end, or worse.

And yet there she was; the dark woman, standing right in the middle of the worst of it, the tentacles whipping harmlessly around her. Every instinct in his body told him she should have been dead or worse. And yet she stood in the darkness, vibrantly happy and very much alive.

For the first time in his life, Cu Chulainn seriously considered just running away. There was nothing wrong with fighting an opponent you couldn't beat, but one you couldn't _understand_ , that was another matter. And then there was that black static that played in the back of his mind as he looked at the Shadow… the whispers that what awaited him was far, far worse than death…

"Caster…" Assassin murmured. "But you were consumed."

"That's…" Lancer muttered. No way. As part of his Master's orders, Lancer had engaged all of the other Servants, and Caster was no exception… though he'd really been fighting her bizarre Master. And this was… well, not her. It kind of looked like her, now that he actually saw it, but the presence, the essence of the Servant he had tested was entirely different. She had never exactly been fluffy and happy, but now… "What the Hell is going on?"

The smile on her perfect lips was warm and calming, in contrast to the aura of wrongness she exuded. Her black eyes seemed to glitter with amusement. "Hmmmmm? Oh, yes, I believe I was consumed. It seems I've gotten better." She said. Her tone was musical, and beautiful, and wrong. "And just in time, it seems. For starters, Assassin, have you absolutely no common sense? To just throw away such a valuable pet as this fine hound is unforgivable.

"Lancer… Assassin will be nothing but food, the first part of my revenge. But you, I intend to keep all to myself. My new puppy." She purred.

Lancer fell back into a combat stance, leveling his spear at the writhing mass of darkness. "Nah. Don't get me wrong, you're cute and all, but if there's one thing I learned in my life it's that women with too much power don't make the best companions."

Caster chuckled, and it choked like glass dust in the air. "It's simply adorable that you think you have a choice."

She raised her hands, and Lancer got the impression that it might be a good idea to move.

The writhing mass of darkness surrounding her split, and split again, breaking from monstrous tentacles into tinier, razor-thin whips; thousands of them, dividing up evenly to target both Lancer and Assassin.

"Just like I taught you, my pet. You know how to do it, even if you don't _know_ you know…" Caster purred.

"Oh, f-" Lancer said, just before the storm began.

The spears snapped out in a hail that blocked out even the waning starlight, a seemingly endless stream of black blades. Lancer's ability to defend against projectiles was extreme, but he had his limits; his spear simply could not be fast enough to defend against a simultaneous attack against every point on his body.

But he wasn't on the middle of a lake, anymore. He was on dry land and he had options.

Gathering power in his legs, he leapt straight backwards, then again, then again. His speed was vastly beyond human, and even with a forest in the way he was able to get quite a bit of distance before…

The spears came crashing down, tearing the mountain trees to kindling. No... it wasn't that they cut the trees, or tore into them. It was as if the living wood simply ceased to exist where the razor-thin blades touched it. Trees fell, cuts smooth as glass along the length of them. The rain of black blades filled the forest… but not as much as it would have if he hadn't retreated to the outer edges of the attack before it landed. He slashed aside the spears of black, but a few dozen, not a thousand. And he had to admit, he was relieved to see Gae Bolg could actually cut the damn things. He'd been worried about that.

A blade slipped through his guard, grazing his thigh. With a wince, he took another flying leap, slashing wildly at it. The cut was shallow, and thin, but the fact that such a light blow had cut at all was enough to confirm his suspicions… whatever that black thing was, it was very, very bad news. He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if he'd been caught by it on the open water; Caster might be trying to eat him right now, but he kinda owed her one.

Well… as much as he hated leaving debts unpaid, he might have to skip that one.

Back on the lake, Caster considered her options. "Well done, my pet. Hunt him down and consume him… alive, if possible, but we need to keep you well-fed."

The tendrils of darkness coiled around Caster's body like a lover's arms, and the Servant chuckled warmly. "Of course. You'll have Assassin as well. That one, I shall bring to you personally and in pieces. Now go, Lancer isn't going to just feed himself to you. Scoot!"

If a thing could be said to move 'like a plague', the Shadow did so; oozing out of the lake and into the forest in pursuit of Lancer and sustenance.

Now alone, Caster turned toward the opposite bank of the lake, where Assassin had stood. The masked Servant had vanished in the storm of her initial attack, but Caster seriously doubted he had been killed; most likely he hid among the trees even now, watching and waiting, invisible and undetectable.

Undetectable. Not un-findable.

Caster raised her arms, palms up, and said, "Ξίφος Νύχτα του Θεού." Above her outstretched hands, discs of black flame appeared, dark against the darkness.

She threw them into the forest behind Ryudou Temple, and the sound was a bit like a thousand chainsaws going violently insane in perfect unison as trees began to fall…

* * *

 

"Archer…" Rin asked again. "What am I looking at?"

The panic was clear in her voice, as much as she might try to hide it. Panic and something else… ever since the Black Servant's boundary field had overtaken the area, she had felt ill. Her head hurt, her blood burned in her veins, her muscles felt like lead. The boundary field was…

"I don't know, and it doesn't matter: we need to get you out of here so I can deal with it." Archer said, as if reading her mind. "This boundary field is sucking your life dry."

"Like Hell." Rin growled. "I'm a Master, I'm not just going to run away like som-"

"Yes, you, are." Archer said. "Right now, you're next to useless, particularly with Assassin and Caster…"

"Caster?" Rin snapped. "That thing is… no way! It's just not possible for that to be a hero of any kind! Not even an anti-hero could be so vile. You can't possibly think that..."

"Rin," Archer said, in a low, soft voice. "I need you to listen to me. Something I don't fully understand is going on here, but I have a chance to stop it. Please… can you trust me?"

Rin thought of this. She heard the urgency in Archer's voice, saw the thinly veiled fear in his eyes. And she gave the only answer that she could.

"No."

"… what?"

"I said 'no'. You clearly know more about this… about everything… than you're telling me. And I'm starting to think that's been the case since I first summoned you," Rin said. "So no, I don't trust you. How could I? I'm staying right here."

Archer considered her response. "All right, that's fair." He admitted. "I wouldn't trust me either. So we're going to do this the hard way."

"The…"

"I'm going to pick you up bodily, drag you to the steps, and throw you outside the mountain's boundary field." Archer said.

"… what?" Rin asked, not quite sure she'd heard right.

"Throw you. Kind of like a javelin, only it's you."

"… … …" Rin said.

"Don't worry. I'm good with projectile weapons. You won't die. I'll make sure you land in a bush or something." Archer said.

"… … …"

"You'll just get hurt. Between the draining effect of this sorcery and the wounds I'll be inflicting, you won't be able to get back to the fight, most likely. You'll be stuck safely outside the boundary field, while I deal with all of this madness." Archer said. "Magi heal fast, you'll be fine."

"Archer…" Rin said slowly. "Don't you dare."

Thirty-five seconds later, as Rin screamed, tears in her eyes, flying awfully fast towards a bush that didn't look at all soft enough for her tastes, she wondered why she'd ever thought this stupid war was something to look forward to.

Archer turned back towards the Temple, a screaming in his blood that he could not ignore. His true Master calling him to action.

But... the normal haze over his actions when performing his duties as a Guardian was not there. If that meant the situation was not yet dire enough, or the Servant summoning interfered with the process, he couldn't tell, but it meant he could face this crisis as himself. If he could deal with this problem now, while he still had his sanity, then...

_Maybe, this time, my actions don't have to end in a massacre._

That was a rare thing for him, and something worth fighting for indeed.

Time to save the world, then.

* * *

 

Lancer went sprawling as the blades of darkness nicked him again.

Agile as he was, maintaining a perfect dodge rate against an enemy that could attack from any direction and seemed to be part of every shadow under every tree was a tall order. And since even the tiniest contact with the dark, twisted substance made him feel exhausted, he couldn't afford less than perfect.

At the least, his spear seemed able to do some damage. It hadn't really hurt the thing in any visible way, but it was able to slash aside the tendrils, cut the shadowy 'flesh'. He wasn't defenseless... completely.

But he couldn't win. He knew that much. Nothing seemed to do any lasting damage, the tendrils coiled around his legs, snapped from the dark spaces between every tree, surrounding, consuming...

He didn't bother to get to his feet, more 'throwing' himself from a prone position with his one free arm; not graceful, but it was movement and that was what he needed right this moment. Black spears slammed into the ground where he had just been as he flipped through the air, slamming his spear into the ground to steady himself and get back to his feet in time to slash aside the next attack. But he was being worn down, and the Shadow was between him and the only exit from the mountain; the main gate. The boundary field around the mountain would heavily resist a Servant on entry or exit, except for the main gates, the only hole in it. No way he could power through the boundary field with that thing on his tail, and no way he could kill it, at least not that he could see.

The tendrils were moving to surround him again, attempting to strike from all angles. And to make matters worse, the darkness was starting to ooze along the forest floor, a pool of infinite black that would soon leave him without even a perch to stand on.

Brilliant silver arrows struck down, igniting brilliant lights throughout the clearing and making the encroaching darkness pull back with a pained shriek.

Lancer looked up... and groaned. "If it's going to be you saving me, I'd rather take my chances with that thing."

Archer fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I'd rather have your help, but if you'd prefer to be devoured, I guess we can work with that too."

Lancer chose not to dignify that with a response. "Your arrows... not sure how, but they seemed to hurt that thing more than my spear. How..."

"Fighting a curse with a demonic lance isn't good tactics. I stuck to Holy blades." Archer said, watching as the Shadow reformed; the extended cloud of darkness coalescing into a vaguely humanoid, or at least human-sized, shape. "And even then I'd say it's not too upset."

"I don't think anything upsets it." Lancer said. "... Look, I'm not suggesting we work together or anything, but how about I wait to kill you until after we get out of this alive?"

"You heroes and your pride." Archer murmured in amusement. "Very well, if it keeps you off my back, call it a cease-fire." he said more loudly, as a half-dozen brilliant silver blades materialized around him.

"You can have a sneak preview of what I'm going to do to you when that fight you want finally comes." Archer said, and charged.

* * *

 

Caster looked at the devastation she had wrought and smiled. It really was amazing what one could do with the proper power source, wasn't it?

The forest by the lakeside had been devastated, and not one single throwing blade or curse had come from it in return. Not that it would have mattered particularly if Assassin had managed a counterattack, given Caster's raw power and defenses, but the fact that he hadn't even made the attempt told Caster that he most likely couldn't. She would have preferred to witness his death more closely, and preferably insure the pain involved in it was intense as possible, but she would accept this. There was, after all a certain glee to be found in the knowledge that she had crushed him like an insect. His death had been as anticlimactic and sudden as Soichirou-sama's.

There was a small measure of justice in that.

And now...

A silver flash tore through her mind. Not exactly painful, but shocking.

 _A man in a red coat, silver swords dancing around him, illuminating the darkness, tearing through the shadows the filled the sacred mountain._  
  
No... no, her pet was...

_The blue knight drove his spear forward, and something hissed as it pierced semi-solid black 'flesh'._

Caster was a part of the Shadow, and the Shadow was a part of Caster. Now, it was in distress, and the pain tore through her link as it called her to its side, seeking protection. Lancer had found an ally, and as much as she had taught her pet it was not yet strong enough to face this new threat with the blazing silver blades.

Caster took to the skies, not remotely happy with the state her new toy was in and not at all shy about sharing this fact with its tormentors.

And in the decimated forest she had left behind, a white skull briefly appeared among the fallen trees before once again fading from sight...

* * *

 

It wasn't exactly beautiful.

The swordsmanship displayed by the red knight was not the graceful beauty of Saber's otherworldly skill, nor the fierce beauty of Lancer's inhuman speed and strength. The silver swords appeared from nowhere and were ruthlessly discarded; each one piercing the Shadow's form, being devoured, and vanishing only to be replaced just as quickly. The knight had no grace, no beyond-human skill, just ruthless practicality and efficiency.

Lancer didn't honestly care; it was damn effective, and that's what mattered. He still didn't get the impression that they were really harming the bizarre thing, but the holy swords were shredding the black mass and pushing the monster back, and that was good enough.

Or, rather, it _had been_ good enough.

"Μαύρη Φλόγα Βροχή ."

Pillars of ebon flame smashed down around the Shadow from above, tearing craters in the ground and driving back the two knights slashing away at its mass.

Above the treetops, Caster hovered, her cape spread like the wings of a bat and runes of power glowing with black light in the sky around her.

"Bad dogs." She purred. "If you can't play nicely with my new pet, I shall have to put some effort into taming you."

"Damn..." Archer muttered. Two-on-two, he was not sure of his chances, not this time. He was already cheating, tapping into powers that a Servant shouldn't have had, and he hadn't been doing a whole lot of damage. Now he had artillery to deal with too.

"You think we can take her?" Lancer asked.

"Do you?" Archer asked.

"Doesn't really matter, I'm trying anyway."

"... fair enough." It wasn't as though they had a lot of other options.

Caster descended, landing inside the Shadow, which dissolved around her into a pool of darkness that began to spread. "Now, my pet, we strike as..."

Something as black as the Shadow around her feet slammed into her back, jerking her body. She looked down at her chest in disbelief, two holes in her chest from projectiles that had gone into her back and pierced completely through. She fell to her hands and knees, blood flowing freely from her mouth and chest, her eyes wide with shock and agony.

A white skull hovered silently among the trees. "You missed," Assassin said.

Archer smirked. Three-on-two was a little bit better.

"You... you... you... you..." Caster murmured. Rather than fading away, she seemed to make everything else around her fading away... power gathering to her, drowning out what tiny bits of light remained on the mountain. Caster rose to her feet shakily, a globe of dark power encircling her, the hole through her chest already halfway closed.

"Damn..." Archer said. "You missed too."

"I see that." Assassin said, his tone somehow managing to be emotionless and yet mocking. "That cloak is partially alive, and it disrupted the course of my knives."

"Seems like she's got a major mana supply. She's healing fast." Lancer said, shifting his focus from Assassin back to Caster. "Also, she looks pissed."

Caster's black eyes were mad. There was no other word for it; she was simply and utterly insane as she turned to cast her gaze on Assassin.

"You... do you think that I would fall to your parlor tricks... you won't take me like you took Soichirou-sama... not me... never me...!" She snarled, a thin line of reddened drool running from the corner of her mouth. The Shadow snarled around her in sympathy to her madness, flowing into her wounds and accelerating her healing.

Seeking vengeance.

" ** _I'm going to tear you all limb from bloody limb_**!" Caster roared, the darkness erupting from her in an explosion of power that shook the mountain.

"This is gonna suck." Lancer said.


	12. Blackest Night

_Night had fallen._

* * *

 

Shirou Emiya dreamt of flames.

He walked through the inferno, his nostrils filled with the stench of ash and boiling human fat, his ears filled with the crackling of blazing flame and the screams of the dying.

He walked helplessly, unable to help anyone, unable to help himself, unable to do anything but walk through the pain.

It hurt.

It hurt.

It hurt.

The heat hurt his skin, the smoke hurt his eyes and his nose, the screams hurt his ears, and the need to leave behind these, his family, bonded in suffering, struck deep into the soul of Shirou Emiya with a pain that no flame could match.

Everything burned. Everything.

He continued his meaningless crawl through the flames, alone. And behind them, something he had never seen before, a darkness so deep that even the blaze that ended his world could not illuminate it...

* * *

 

 _The sky over the sacred mountain was starless_.

* * *

 

Saber sat, sleepless. Her senses were weak, but even she could feel a tinge of unease in the air, the vague sense of something wrong with the world.

She should have been out there, she knew. She should have been in the night, fighting her War. Something was inexplicably but undoubtedly wrong, and the King of Knights should have been on the front lines, her sword in hand, charging headlong into battle without restraint.

Sakura and Shirou needed her protection, and she would not abandon them. But her hands gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly her hands went bone white.

_A bottomless void from which not even light could escape._

In her room, Sakura Matou clutched her chest, gasping for air. Sweat poured down her body, her skin had gone ghostly pale, and her nails had drawn blood on her chest from where she tried in vain to alleviate the tightness in her heart. And yet, despite the obvious agony she was in, she did not stir from her slumber.

Any who saw her might notice something dark twisting between her fingers, even as they desperately clawed at her heart...

* * *

 

_But to those who held true power…_

* * *

 

Kirei Kotomine looked at Caster through Lancer's eyes, and wasn't sure if he should frown or smile. On the one hand, he feared she represented some trick of Makiri that he didn't yet understand. And for all that Kirei loved general suffering, he hated Zouken very, very much. On the other hand…

She was beautiful, there was no denying that. The bringer of the end times, a black gem in the night, the personification of the suffering that he was so enamored of.

So, so beautiful.

"How many?" Kotomine asked softly, "How many people will find their meaning in you, I wonder?"

So beautiful.

* * *

 

_… for those who had eyes to see the truth…_

* * *

 

Ilyasviel von Einzbern sat in her bed, staring at the ceiling, her good mood dissolved.

She would have to deal with this, she knew. It wasn't anything she really wanted to do with her time, it wasn't exactly her idea of fun, but she would have to.

The Holy Grail… if it was that, it was her responsibility. It was nothing that grandpapa had told her, she wouldn't have to listen to that; this was an instinct burned into her blood, the fate of those who held the Grail.

She simply had no choice but to care, this time.

 _I'm sorry, Shirou._ She thought.

* * *

 

… _the formless black illuminated far more than the pale light of a waning moon._

* * *

 

The Golden King inclined his head in the direction of Ryudou Temple, as if listening to a sound only he could hear.

"Tch." He said, his expression one of disgusted annoyance. He might have to deal with this at some point, no matter what Kirei thought.

Well, for the moment, it still wasn't really an issue. He uncorked another sample from Kirei's wine cellar and poured a glass.

Still, it didn't taste as good as it should have.

* * *

 

_And the darkness was only growing deeper._

* * *

 

"We're screwed, huh?" Lancer said, almost conversationally.

"That attitude is not helping." Archer said, pulling a blade from the air. It should have been glowing like the sun, but the pall over the mountain drowned out even the holy light from the weapon.

"She is still a Servant. Aim for the heart and the head." Assassin said. "I doubt I need to say this, but do not touch the darkness. It will devour your mana with even brief contact."

"Why are you even helping us?" Lancer asked.

"I have already assassinated this woman once. Consider this professional pride." Assassin said.

"Also, she seems to want to kill you more than she wants to kill us." Archer said dryly.

Assassin chose not to dignify this with a response. In his defense, at this point Caster seemed to want to kill everyone equally.

But then, that might have been because the thing before them wasn't exactly Caster anymore. It wasn't exactly the Shadow, either. It was as if Caster wore the Shadow as a suit of armor… no. More like the Shadow had become a second skin to her, a merger between the two into a single entity. Darkness flowed from her rapidly closing wounds instead of blood, traces of a black mist whirled around her eyes and the corners of her lips. The thing before them was, despite what Assassin might have said, not exactly a Servant any longer. A Servant at its core, but the merger with the Shadow had clearly left Caster as… something else. It was clear, however, which of the two portions of the composite being had more control over the monster they had become.

" _You. Will. Suffer_." Caster growled.

And then she attacked.

Tendrils of darkness gathered in her palm, compressing in on themselves until they ceased to have any physical presence, igniting into a flame that seemed to burn without light, doing nothing to illuminate the gathering darkness. The blue-black flame lashed out in arcs that tore furrows along the ground, not digging up trenches in the ground but killing every blade of grass or plant they passed near, carving chunks out of entire trees so smoothly the wood ended up looking almost like polished glass…

"Break!" Archer snapped, leaping backwards as the life-stealing flames continued their hunt, splitting off like a three-headed serpent to track each of the three Servants. On a hunch, Archer hurled the blade in his hands as he moved.

The golden blade struck the black flames, and vanished harmlessly with a hiss.

 _Very, very not good_. Archer thought. Whatever Caster had done here, the holy blades he'd been projecting until now were losing their edge. If he lost his ability to cut the enemy, there wasn't much he could do.

 _This is not the time, I think. Strategic retreat might be in order_. Archer thought. He had thought he understood the nature of his adversary, but it was becoming more and more obvious that this wasn't the case. He had his suspicions as to the nature of the Shadow entity, but the actual creature had proven borderline-invincible, more like a curse than a real being. He had been hoping to destroy it here, but a few minutes into the battle, wasn't sure he could have managed even with Lancer's aid.

Now, he was more-or-less certain he could not. Whatever this thing was, Caster understood it far better than he did, and her knowledge of its strengths vastly outweighed the few minor weaknesses he'd been able to confirm. He'd made some analysis and had a better of idea of what he was up against; now was the time to get out of here, move Rin far away, and begin plans to deal with the situation in a more sensible fashion.

The operative term being 'get out.' He suspected Caster wasn't just going to let them leave…

The woman shifted her arm, and the serpentine flames all turned to direct themselves right at him. The first, which had been coming directly at him, continued its implacable path, while the other two snapped like whips, leaving Archer wholly surrounded by black flame that began to constrict inwards.

Charming. He'd been hurting her pet the most, and she was taking him out first. He'd been hoping she would aim at Assassin, he was the one who backstabbed her.

 _He also can't hurt her_. Assassin was the Servant who specialized in targeting Masters… one-on-one, he wasn't much for combat with other Servants. But then, Caster wasn't supposed to be much good at that either, and she was currently about to kill him so…

A bolt of scarlet lightning ripped through the black flames, scattering them.

Archer blinked as the cage vanished into the ether.

"You should dodge faster." Lancer said, flicking his spear to clear a few black sparks from it.

"Your spear…" Archer said. "How did you…?"

"It cut the darkness." Lancer said with a shrug. "Didn't really hurt it, but cut it. Figured it would do the same for that... she's just playing around with the same shadow-stuff."

_That doesn't make any…_

_Of course it does_. Archer thought. _I just didn't see how for a moment. All right, perhaps we do have some options. And that's good, because... if I can destroy her here, and now, before this can get too far out of hand..._

_I have to, if it's at all possible._

Caster extended a hand. Several of the black tendrils gathered together, merging together, lengthening, extending from the palm of her hand as a blade of solid black that continued to draw in darkness and grow further out. And out.

And out.

And out.

Archer gazed at the ebon lance, which was now nearly five times larger than the woman whose arm it was growing from, and still getting larger as it drew in more and more of the darkness.

He turned to Lancer and said, "Hers is bigger than yours."

"I hate you." Lancer said.

Caster whipped her arm around at approximately neck-height, and the forest began to fall.

* * *

 

Assassin really did have to thank them. All of them, to be honest, every last fool among them.

Archer and Lancer, he had to thank for wearing brilliant primary colors in a dark forest in the dead of night. They really couldn't have been better targets if they tried.

Caster, he had to thank for being a bit of a dolt. She had been so focused on his death, back at the lake; had she continued with that single-minded pursuit she most probably could have destroyed him with relative ease. Instead, she had gotten angry, and then she had gotten sloppy. She had let Assassin slip once more into the darkness.

He was not a Servant for face-to-face combat. He did his best work when he wasn't noticed, and it seemed that nobody at all noticed him right now.

The skull mask faded into the night. Or at least, it faded from sight, for the moment...

* * *

 

"Milady, this is highly unusual. Your own plans were…" Sella began, following a few steps behind her Mistress as the young princess gathered her winter clothes.

"My plans were what they were, and they are what they are. They've changed. I intended to only go out during the day, but I can't do that anymore." Ilya said, adjusting her coat. "There's some things I need to look at."

"Milady, if you could tell us even a bit more…" Leysritt implored.

"You don't need to know." Ilya said, placing her hat firmly into place and walking for the door.

"Milady, stop." Sella said sharply (Or rather, as sharply as she was capable of speaking to Ilya).

The daughter of Einzbern did indeed stop in her tracks, but not for the reason Sella had most likely been hoping. She did not turn to face her attendants, but merely said, very, very softly. "Did a broken doll… just tell _me_ what to do…?"

Sella's face, if it was possible, paled even further. But she remained resolute, even going so far as to step forward between her mistress and the door. "I… I am sorry, milady. But your behavior has been… erratic, of late. Your grandfather…"

"Is not here. I will conduct this war as I choose, and I don't need your approval. Move, Sella." Ilya said.

"Your grandfather…" Sella continued. "Has asked that we foster and guide you, for the glory of the Family, and you have not permitted us to act in our role. Please, milady, you must…"

"I _must_ do nothing." Ilya said, her eyes going very, very cold. "You, on the other hand, must _move._ "

With the command, a sudden ominous aura filled the room, and something giant and bronze and black filled the air behind Ilya.

Ilya did not command Sella to move again. She did not really have to.

"… … yes, Milady." Sella said, lowering her eyes and stepping aside.

"I will forgive your disobedience," Ilya said, a bit smugly, as Berserker picked her up and placed her on his shoulder. " _This time_. Let's go, Berserker. There's something I need to have a look at."

The black giant and the white princess surged off into the night.

"... ... ... I thought we were not going to chastise her until morning." Leysritt said, after they were gone.

Had Sella been a less dignified existence, she most likely would have told her sister to shut up.

* * *

 

Servants, it must be noted, are physically far more powerful than humans. Lancer proved this effectively by leaping nearly forty meters straight up with a single swift motion, clearing the horizontally swung blade of darkness by a huge distance. It was a display of truly phenomenal agility and power; one moment, the blue knight was on the ground. The next, he soared.

Archer, ever the efficient soul, chose instead to just duck, letting it go over his head by about an inch.

 _Show-off_. The two Servants thought of each other at the exact same instant.

Caster raised her other hand, and the Shadow warped itself again. The blade she had swung dissolved, turning liquid and seeping across the ground, a pool of darkness that began to spread across the ground like water... with the exception that water did not draw in any living thing it touched, and this darkness most certainly did.

Archer leapt into one of the trees that had no yet been felled, but the growing pool of darkness was already dissolving it from the bottom up, and he couldn't exactly keep jumping from tree to tree like a chimp. Just staying alive was pointless. Victory was what mattered.

Lancer landed next to him. "What are you doing? You could cut the damn thing before, so get to it!"

"Those blades were just imitations. Forgeries. They worked... passably well against an incomplete thing like that darkness, but Caster's magic is a power from the Age of Gods, a genuine Divine Mystery. Merged, they can easily devour such frauds. A true Noble Phantasm like your spear would be required to cut it, by piercing it with a greater Mystery, but the cursed nature of the lance impedes its effects."

"Feh. So you're saying we're both useless, then? Doesn't surprise m-"

"No, I'm saying I need to try harder." Archer said.

"Eh?" Lancer said. "What the Hell does that m-"

But Archer's mind was already gone.

_Searching._

_Reality Marble accessed._

_Recreating basic form. Recreating exterior structure. Examine, every detail,_ _and perfectly recreate form, ability..._

_Recreate history._

_Every detail, down to the most minute irregularity in the sheen of the metal,_ _must be perfectly copied. As exact a recreation as is possible._

**_I am the bone of my sword. Steel is my body and fire is my blood._ **

"Holy-!" Lancer said.

He was absolutely correct.

The blade that now shone in Archer's hands was as different from those he'd conjured before as the sun was from a flashlight. This broadsword was not a mere image, but a true Noble Phantasm.

 _No... the swords before were one thing, but that's not the weapon of an Archer, it simply can't be!_ Lancer thought. This was a holy blade, a weapon of power and history that belonged in the hands of a great swordsman. Anyone who mastered a sword like that would simply not be...

"Lancer." Archer said, the weapon in his hands burning back the gloom that pervaded the mountain. "Watch my back."

And he leapt down into the pool of darkness, his blade leading the way. Lancer half-expected him to simply vanish into the shadows, but the holy sword sliced aside the extended darkness as easily as the morning sun burning through fog. A landing space cleared, he dropped to his knees, built power in his legs, and charged...

The Sword of Victory sang as it cleaved through the shadows. His charge had caught her off her guard, and if his initial rush could cut her down with a single stroke...

" ** _Caliburn!_** "

The blade ignited with the call of its true name, and Archer couldn't help but smirk at the irony. Here he was, battling evil with _her_ sword, a shining knight... it was almost like he was a real Hero. Of course, the image of heroism wouldn't hold up well if Caster burned him down before his blade could reach her, and her hands were raised.

She opened her mouth to chant the words that would quite likely reduce him to ash. The runes appeared behind her, ready to release the dark fire. Archer prepared his blade to cut her down, hoping that the Holy light would afford some protection... it was too late to dodge, and this plan hadn't gone as planned, to say the least.

Time seemed to slow down.

Archer's blade sliced the night air...

Caster's lips formed the words to her next spell, seeking to protect herself and her 'pet'...

A black dart slipped through the scene, just below her chin.

The words died on Caster's lips, her spell forgotten, as her hand clamped down on her throat, the slit jugular pumping blood.

The white skull mask looked on from atop a fallen tree, grinning horribly.

Archer's blade began to swing down.

Caster slammed her palm into the ground, let out a wordless, blood-choked cry, and everything went straight to Hell.

The leyline that ran through the mountain pulsed, a wild, raw surge of uncontrolled power. Archer thought he heard screams... men, women, and children alike.

 _She harvested the souls of the town for power_...! Archer thought, just before the Shadow exploded. The sudden influx of pure mana was drawn into the Shadow through the leyline, as Caster's Temple reached out across Fuyuki and ripped the power from the citizenry.

Archer was hurled back, his blade falling from his hands. He sought it, but the sudden storm of power blinded him, tossing him through a hailstorm of leaves, entire trees being hurled around like they were twigs.

A hand clamped down on his wrist, and he projected and swung the sword in a single, smooth motion.

It collided with a scarlet lance. "Idiot, it's me!" Lancer screamed. "We need to get out of here!"

"No... I can't leave her to..." Archer said. He had to stop it. Had to. This was his chance to end it, he couldn't...

He turned to see the Shadow. He didn't have to turn far.

Caster was no longer visible. The darkness that had once been surrounding her now completely blocked her from view, a towering wall of black and writhing tentacles. It began to grow further... no, to inflate, in preparation to...

 _Explode_?

"We can damn well leave." Lancer said.

The Shadow burst, and the tides of darkness tore through the forest behind the two, quite suddenly fleeing Servants.

* * *

 

Assassin was the first to escape, as it should be. There was absolutely no reason for him to remain on the mountain; he had begun his retreat as soon as Archer had been repelled. At this point, victory was not possible. Escape was the only option.

He slid through the gate, instantly feeling lighter on his feet outside the oppressive boundary field. He descended the steps seven at a time, preparing to leap to the street and vanish from this place once and for...

Ah.

A soft moaning emerged from the underbrush. Something stirred in the bushes, once again thoughtfully wearing a brilliant primary color. Bright red in a forest in the dead of night was not ideal for camouflage in any sense of the term. (Admittedly, black was not either, being generally too dark to truly blend in with nightime shadows. Gray or dark green would have been better, from a visual perspective, but Assassin had other means of remaining hidden and could get away with it). She was laying there, stirring from unconsciousness, totally defenseless...

She was a Master. He could sense that much. The Master of Archer or Lancer, he couldn't be certain, but it hardly mattered. At this point, the battle with Caster was over, one way or the other, and so they no longer mattered. She was a Master, alone in the Holy Grail War, without her Servant to shield her. She was prey.

He slid a knife into his fingers. Such an opportunity was not to be missed. He drew back his arm, fairly certain that this one's head wouldn't have a shield of darkness to push aside bladed weapons...

 _No_. Said the voice in his mind.

 _Master_? Assassin thought. _You have been out of contact for some time._

_I was indisposed. Leave the girl and attend me, immediately._

_But..._

_I have a use for this one._ Zouken thought, observing the heir of Tohsaka through Assassin's eyes. _Yes. Yes, I do..._

_This is foolish, Master. Whatever plan you may have, the chance to eliminate her so early and without risk is..._

The air ahead of him took on a sudden similarity with the air behind him: not the same clawing emptiness, but disturbingly similar vicious, murderous intent and the oppressive aura of rippling, barely-controlled power. Further down the street, unnoticed as of yet by the Tohsaka girl, he could just barely make out the outline of two figures; one childlike, but the other very clearly something much, much larger than a person.

Perhaps revealing his location was unwise after all.

 _On the other hand_. He said, discarding the knife and slipping back into the darkness, _You are the Master, here._

* * *

 

Ilya sighed. "It's not here."

Berserker did not reply, of course, but talking to him helped her organize her thoughts. "I mean, it's here, it's strongest here, but this isn't the source. Even if we deal with what's here, we won't solve the issue. Follow my eyes, Berserker. We'll trace this back to its heart and end it right now, while it's still early. I won't let something this vile run around and-" _Put Shirou in danger_. "-endanger the completion of the Grail."

She could sense it. The main 'mass' of the darkness was here. But it was like a pool fed by an underground spring. The visible water was what you drowned in, but the source was somewhere else entirely. Most, she supposed, would have missed that, but then most didn't have Ilya's rather unique senses. Even a great Magus wouldn't be able to feel this phenomenon with the clarity she could; she might be the only person in the world who could truly understand a bit of what had happened, see some small measure of the truth.

Caster, one of the Seven, had been drawn into the Holy Grail. And then she'd come out, but that hardly mattered. The important thing was that the Grail she had been drawn into _wasn't Ilya._

A second Grail. Someone was breaking the rules severely, and Ilya strongly suspected who it might be. "To the old Makiri's nest, Berserker."

If one had to travel, in Berserker's arms was not a bad way to do so. The Servant's muscled frame wasn't exactly comfortable, but at a full run he was faster than a speeding car and got to his destination far more quickly by virtue of not having to follow the roads. Buildings were hurdles, not obstacles, and Berserker was very, very good at jumping hurdles.

They were well on the way to the Matou manor within two minutes, but Ilya frowned regardless. Something was wrong.

The trail didn't lead to Zouken?

She hadn't been expecting that, but she could hardly deny the evidence of her own senses. There was indeed a silvery line of magic linking towards the House of Makiri, this much was true. Zouken was, indeed, somehow connected to the incident that had caught her eye. But the darker of the two 'source lines', the one connected most strongly to the Second Grail...

 _No_. Ilya thought.

Berserker followed her mind, turning towards the blackness and pursuing it. But that direction...

 _It can't be. It isn't. There's no way it could be something to do with him... he doesn't know anything, he can't do anything, he's weak, barely a Magus at all... a Magecraft of this level would be as far beyond him as trying to grasp the sun in his hands_... She thought desperately.

Berserker stormed down the empty streets, each step bringing them closer and closer to something that Ilya feared more than anything else she could haveimagined...

_No... no, no, no, it's not possible, there's simply no way he could..._

The thin, black line of magic didn't lie. It remained... hollow and insubstantial and deathly cold, but it clearly existed, and it traced back fully from the Shadow devouring the temple to this place. The house of Emiya...

The wellspring of the Dark Grail was in Shirou's own home.

 _Oh, Shirou._ Ilya thought, her heart falling. _What have you done?_

_And what will I have to do to deal with this...?_

* * *

 

"We're not going to make it to the Gate..." Lancer said.

"We are." Archer replied.

The Servants had managed to stay ahead of the black flood, but not by nearly so much as either would have preferred. Archer was not remotely sure what to do. Even Lancer could only retreat so quickly in a forest at night. Added to the fact that they could only escape through the main gate...

And the darkness was, indeed, gaining on them.

"Your girl's down there, right? The cute one. Pigtails, dresses in red." Lancer said, oddly conversationally considering they were running for their lives.

"Yes! You tried to kill her once! Move faster!"

"Girl that pretty is a bad thing to waste. And... I hate to admit it, but I owe you one for keeping me alive this long." Lancer said. "This mountain's a lost cause. Get your girl and get out, I have this."

"But…" Archer began.

"Go." Lancer repeated, sounding almost bored. " _I have this_."

The wave of darkness was descending, Assassin had abandoned them, and Rin was at the foot of the mountain…

"Fine," Archer said. Then, before he descended the temple steps, out of some sense of bizarre sentimentality that he'd thought himself long rid of, he added, "Try to die well."

Lancer screeched to a halt, drawing his arm back. _Die? Not if I can help it._

The spear had cut the darkness. The Divine Mystery behind the lance cutting the magic. The damage had been limited by Gae Bolg's dark nature, but the Mystery…

His blade could cut this darkness. All he needed to do was compensate for the handicap with just a little extra effort.

" ** _Gae_** …" He intoned, drawing his weapon back further. Gae Bolg, the cursed lance that would _always_ pierce the target's heart… even if by virtue of the fact that it could, if pressed, destroy their entire body.

He doubted Caster was familiar enough with his life as a hero to know it was truly meant to be used as a javelin.

He charged the tidal wave of nightmare, a grim smile on his face.

"… ** _Bolg!_** "

Lancer leapt, calling out the weapon's true name even as he took to the sky. And with a single smooth motion, he hurled the unstoppable spear.

Gae Bolg was a cursed, bloodthirsty lance, an instrument of darkness. Despite this, it lit up the night as even the holy blade could not, the weapon's true name calling forth its ultimate power as a Noble Phantasm.

The light that shone down was not a holy strength, but the light of raw destruction.

The blast of light and energy tore through the wave of darkness, the Shadow releasing a keening wail of agony as it was torn apart by the javelin of Cu Chulainn; The Spear of Striking Death Flight.

When the blast finally cleared, all that remained of the darkness was a pool of a weakly flailing tendrils on the ground where the abomination had been struck.

Lancer sighed in admitted relief. He hadn't been at all sure that would work, but it had been his only remaining tactic. At least it seemed to have wounded the thing, and Caster was nowhere to be seen. If she had been inside the mass, she was destroyed. And good riddance. He thought.

Something sharp pricked his neck. A flash of light blinded him suddenly.

He had a hero's instincts and reflexes; had he not detected the attack, the wound to his neck would have been a slashed jugular, not a minor pinprick. Hewas a bit nervous about the strange light, but managed to roll to the side, calling his spear back to his hand and leveling it at…

"Caster…" her murmured. "You left the Shadow while it was hunting us and snuck around? Bitch."

"Soooooo clever." She purred.

"Guess it was too much to hope you were dead, at that."

The witch stood where Lancer had made his final stand against her pet, an oddly jagged black dagger in her hand. The blade was purely ebon, making the single brilliant scarlet drop of Lancer's blood on the tip stand out all the more. "Hope, my dear? You have no hope." She said. "This battle has reached its conclusion. Not as seamless as I'd hoped, but victory is mine."

"Well, you're not wrong about this being over." His mana situation wasn't exactly perfect, but, he had enough left for this much. " ** _Gae_** …"

" **Don't move**." She said, and against all odds, against his own will, Lancer's muscles locked, his lips clamped shut. He tried to complete the incantation, to take her heart, but he couldn't budge a millimeter no matter how hard he tried. It was as if…

With a beautiful, mocking smile, Caster shifted the hand holding her strange dagger to reveal Lancer's Command Seals on her hand, one of the three marks now faded.

 _That dagger_ …!

Caster smiled more widely. "Your Noble Phantasm is brilliant, Lancer. One of the most destructive weapons I've seen in some time. Mine, I'm afraid, is not nearly so magnificent, though it does have its uses, as you're learning now. My dagger is called Rule Breaker, and there is no finer tool for piercing magical oaths and sigils. Your contract with your Master is broken, Lancer. Your command seals are mine. _You_ , my dear, are mine.

"And you are food."

The tiny tendrils of darkness looked, suddenly, like the snapping teeth of a gigantic predator as they slowly but inexorably began to grow again around Lancer's legs...

" **Be devoured**."

Rin finally managed to extricate herself from the thorn bush (Yes, thorns. Archer had thrown her into a thorn bush. Bastard), falling to her hands and knees, breathing heavily. Getting out of tangled thorns was not fun on the best of days, and she had to admit that her time in the boundary field around the Temple had not been good for her health. Shakily, she stood…

And had the wind knocked out of her as a red blur slammed into her. She felt an arm clamp around her waist and suddenly she was moving and not at all sure what was going on…

"Archer…!" She said when she could breathe again.

"Yes, I'm here." Archer said as he carried his Master to safety, his voice more bitter than she had ever heard it. "For all the good that does."

"What happened? Why are we...?"

"The Temple is lost. Lancer is dead. We can't come back here again." Archer snapped. "Challenging her here won't work, it never would..."

Rin was briefly silent. "What... what do we do now?"

"I don't know, Rin. I honestly don't know." Archer said.

And Rin Tohsaka thought that might have been the most genuinely frightening thing she'd ever heard.

_Night had fallen._

_The sky over the sacred mountain was starless, a void from which not even light_ _could escape._

 _Something stirred in the darkness. A jet-black spear pierced the night air._ _Something jagged and so black it stood out even against the night took shape,_ _then. A malevolence that smelled of blood. The presence took its first steps_ _onto a doomed world, and smiled._

_The little remaining light over Ryudou Temple died._

_And the darkness was only growing deeper..._


	13. Echoing and Awakening

Kirei Kotomine considered what he had just seen, and for the first time in many, many years, was not certain what to make of it.

Lancer's loss was neither unexpected nor mourned. He had hoped the Servant would continue to be of value to him, obviously, but had clearly never expected him to live out the entire war. He was, as with any Servant, cannon fodder.

But the _means_ of his destruction were... if not troublesome, than at least off-putting. The powers involved had been nothing of the sort that the Caster summoned for this War should have been capable of. They were... very intriguing. Twisted, chaotic, bizarre, _familiar_...

Yes, he had to admit that he rather liked this new incarnation of Servant Caster. He would have taken a great deal of joy in watching her run wild and turn the Holy Grail War on its head...

If he could be absolutely certain she was not acting as some tool of Zouken Makiri.

That was the issue, wasn't it? Her powers... the strange shadow-creature she commanded... they called to him. Like seeking like. He could _feel_ their nature thrumming through his blood. The same perfect sin he had felt that last night, in the flames, and remembered each day, with each beat of his heart. Caster's new power was of the Grail, and as much Kirei loathed to admit it? None knew more of the Holy Grail than Zouken. He was, more than likely, involved.

"What are you doing about this?" Spoke a familiar voice from behind him. It was astonishing how Gilgamesh could somehow make a question sound like a command.

"Ah... you were looking in?"

"I didn't bother to seek the details. I just sensed something that spoiled my wine. It felt familiar, and ugly. What are you doing about it?" Gilgamesh said. He wasn't smirking. That was a bad sign, Kirei noted, and resolved to show very, very little emotion and absolutely no 'insolence'. There were a _lot_ of reactions Gilgamesh viewed as 'insolence', up to and including looking him in the eyes. Kirei focused his vision firmly on the King of Heroes' nose.

"At the moment? I fear that I can do little." Kirei said mildly. "Lancer has been killed."

"...So?"

"Your concern is touching." Kirei said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, recognizing that had a 50-50 chance of being insolent. "But I was attempting to get across the minor detail that I no longer have a Servant, and directly opposing Caster is not within my power."

Gilgamesh considered this. "Get it done indirectly, then. You're clever, and you have suitable pawns."

"I plan to investigate, of course. I will intervene if I feel the situation requires my hand."

" _I_ feel it requires a hand. I dislike the feel of this thing, Kirei. It disturbs my demeanor. Caster was a vile little thing, but she had a certain amount of subtlety. Whatever I felt last night was neither subtle, nor pleasant to look upon. I want it _gone_." Gilgamesh said firmly, turning to leave the room. "I'll trust you to deal with this for now, Kirei. But if you can't handle it to my liking, I will eventually step in, and when that happens? Stay out of the way."

Kirei watched him go, and vaguely wondered if he and Gilgamesh had somehow become genuine friends at some point.

Most people wouldn't have gotten a warning.

* * *

 

The sun beginning to peek over the horizon left her feeling somewhat uneasy.

Rider was not a hero. She was not especially selfless, bore no particular love for mankind, and in fact had experienced enough of their cruelty to consider them something to, in general, either be devoured or avoided. And so, she had become something of a creature of the night; the sun no ally of hers in either seeking sustenance nor escaping notice. Granted, in her current form it wasn't as great an issue as it might have been... the astral state afforded to Servants was sufficient to keep her presence hidden even from Saber, so long as she took no overt actions. It was more that... the light just made her mildly uncomfortable.

Particularly after the events of the previous night.

Rider, too, had felt the strange surge of disquieting power from the Temple, but she had also had a front-row seat to something she found far more disturbing. As others turned their eyes to the mountaintop, Rider had cast her gaze on Sakura, and she had _not_ liked what she saw. The girl had clearly been in intense pain, nearly the entire night, at one point even bleeding from her mouth as the anguish caused her to bite the inside of her cheek. And yet, throughout, she had never once stirred from her sleep.

Rider had known the girl's body was abnormal, her spirit in some way tainted. But until now, she had never seen the extent of the problem. Sakura was lucky to have lived this long, and if the degradation continued at this rate, she would not last out the War.

And the girl was not about to let anyone know about it, either. Even now she was up and about, working diligently, disguising her pain with admirable skill. Both the physical pain she was clearly in (clearly to Rider, at the very least) but the emotional... even as she went about her daily schedule with feigned cheer, the boy she was obviously enamored with left her to her own devices, to waste his time with swordplay. He'd even announced that he planned to go out for lunch, leaving her alone! She was _ill,_ and...

Honestly, Rider wondered what she _saw_ in him. He was attractive enough, but really, he was as dense as a rock.

But she supposed, really, that she was mostly annoyed with _herself_. Sakura was suffering, Rider was the only one who knew, and she could do nothing to help. At least nothing that Sakura herself would not be utterly repelled by. Worse, the more Rider saw of this illness, the more she worried that even beyond her own helplessness, there was little that _anyone_ could do to save the girl...

It was very likely that the best she would be able to manage was to stay by Sakura's side until the end. And in this War, perhaps not even that.

And even for the monster that had become Servant Rider, that thought was painful indeed.

* * *

 

Ilya wasn't sure if she had done the right thing, coming to the park today.

For that matter, she wasn't entirely sure the 'right thing' wouldn't have been to send Berserker raging into Shirou's home to tear apart the source of the... whatever it was. The 'Black Grail', for lack of a better term.

She didn't think Shirou had anything to do with it, personally. First of all, it was a tool of Makiri and she would know if he was touched by the vile thing. But beyond that, he simply wasn't the sort who could create something that _grotesque_. Not in terms of his lack of magical talent (though that was _horrible_ ), but in terms of the kind of _person_ he was. He was far, far too kind to have made anything of the sort. And if it... it was a thing like Ilya? That looked like a person? He probably didn't even realize it was in his house.

Which meant that Ilya was not at _all_ sure how to deal with it. Could she send Berserker in to tear the place apart? Saber would intervene, but Berserker could destroy her with little difficulty, and the 'body' of the Black Grail didn't have a terribly amazing feeling of magic in it. The question became 'what would Shirou do?'. He certainly wouldn't stand still at a giant creature destroying his home and killing houseguests. He would step in. And she could _tell_ Berserker not to hurt him, and Berserker would do his best to comply, but he wasn't exactly a precision instrument and in such close quarters...

"Ilya!" Said a familiar voice, making her heartbeat race. "Hey! I can't stay long... but at least I'm not late or sick this time." Shirou said, chuckling slightly.

"I-it's okay. I just like that you keep taking the time to meet with me." Ilya said. "You didn't have to. It was... nice."

"Heh." Shirou took a seat next to her on the bench. "Well, I'm glad I'm making your stay in Japan a little better, then. So, what did you want to do today? Just sit and talk? I'm afraid I, er... don't have much interesting going on..."

 _Wow. He is actually the worst liar in the entire world. He must be,_ Ilya thought, honestly suppressing the urge to giggle despite her sense of foreboding. "Are you sure? I bet that your life must be exciting. My grandpapa told me that the Japanese are a tribe of barefooted savages who slice their bellies open. I bet it's exciting to live with people like that!"

"... your grandpapa exaggerates."

 _… More and more, I'm starting to wonder if grandfather just **lies.** But it's cute that you're still being polite, _Ilya thought. Out loud she said, "Oh? Then who _do_ you live with?"

"Well, nobody who slices their bellies open!" Shirou chuckled. "... a few who go out of control _filling_ their bellies, maybe. We just got a new guest in the house who's a really big eater, and Fuji-nee could pack five people's worth of food in on her own already, so it's good that Sakura is around to cook too..."

"Who are Fujine and Sakura?" Ilya asked.

"Oh... heh, that's right, not a native. Well, Fuji-nee is just what I call Taiga Fujimura. She's my teacher, but she's also an old friend of my dad's from when he was still alive. She's been there for me and helped me out ever since... though she isn't really 'mom' material. I guess you could say she's like my big sister." He stopped to think. "... though she acts more like my _little_ sister, sometimes. But she's always been there for me, no matter how bad things got. She's family."

"Family..." Ilya thought softly. _A friend of Kiritsugu. I wonder what she's like. Did he love her? Did he care about her and Shirou more than me, and that's why he stayed away?_

_Or did grandfather lie about that, too?_

"She sounds nice," Ilya said softly. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around him.

"H-hey! Wh-what did I tell you about being too touchy-feel-"

"I don't have a papa, either. I know it hurts," Ilya whispered.

Shirou could have been knocked down by a light breeze.

"I... Ilya, I'm sorry, I had no idea..."

"No, you don't have to be sorry," The girl said, nuzzling her small head against his chest. She was, if anything, even lighter than she looked, almost like she really was an insubstantial fairy. "It's sad, but... it's something we have in common. It helps that we have the same feelings, right?"

Shirou wasn't sure, honestly, what he should say. He settled for patting the girl's hair softly.

"Sakura," Ilya said.

"... … wait, what?"

Ilya's expression, as she turned up to look at him, was a combination of the melancholy she had been showing before, and a look of pity over Shirou's obvious and intense stupidity. "You told me who Fujine..."

"Fuji-nee."

"Whatever! You told me who _she_ was, but who is Sakura! … She better not be your girlfriend. I won't tolerate you toying with a maiden's heart!" Ilya said, all traces of sadness gone to be replaced by impatient annoyance. Shirou fought the urge to laugh at her overly serious expression. Honestly, keeping track of her emotions required a checklist and several days of planning.

"N-not exactly." Shirou said. "She's just... an old friend, that's all. Almost like family herself, at this point."

"Hmph. Well, I'll believe you. _This time_." Ilya said, her tone indicating that it was an act of great generosity. "... …. she's nice, then?"

"She basically... showed up one day when I was sick, and never left." Shirou said, chuckling slightly. "I mean, I'd seen her before, but mostly because she was my friend's sister. She showed up to help me, and has kept right on supporting me ever since, even once her brother and I grew apart. I don't even honestly know _why,_ not for certain. I guess Sakura Matou is just that kind of person."  
Ilya's blood froze.

Matou...

_Makiri... Makiri... **Makiri...**_

**_"_** Ilya?" Shirou said softly, disturbed as the girl pulled away from him.

"I... I have to go. I'm sorry, Shirou... I... I'm sorry..." She stammered, turning to run.

"Ilya, wait! At least tell me what's wr-" Shirou began, setting a hand on her shoulder.

 _"I said I have to go!_ " Ilya shrieked, slapping the hand away.

She fled, unwilling to look at his face and see the worry and shock she knew would be there. But what else could she do? A tool of Makiri was in his home, and his closest friend was one of that same family? It took little effort to discern what this meant. She didn't even try to stop the tears; just ran, and ran, and ran, hoping against hope for some plan she had not yet seen to become evident, and knowing deep down that none would.

She _had to_ deal with this issue. But the only method she could see to do it...

Shirou would never forgive her. She _had_ to, but she _couldn't_...

What was she going to _do?_

* * *

 

Senpai had been sad, at dinner.

He had tried to hide it, but Sakura could tell that something was bothering him. She assumed it to have something to do with the War, but there was no way to be certain... Senpai had always been the sort to not burden others with his troubles, just like Sakura herself. It was part of what had drawn her to him in the first place, that distinct similarity between them, the sense of... of nothingness.

He felt he didn't matter, and so he mattered to her. She doubted he had noticed, but that was merely because she was a better actor than he was. It was for the best.

**_He should have noticed, though. Should have seen something, should have detected some oddity. I hid it from him, but there were hints if he had bothered to look..._ **

Sakura shook her head, hoping to clear it. She supposed this issue with the War, and Senpai, and all of it had made her more tired than she thought. Lately, her thoughts just didn't seem to stop wandering. When she was awake, she felt less and less like herself, and when she slept, her dreams were...

 ** _Just dreams. Just worries. Nothing is wrong..._** Sakura thought. With a bitter chuckle, she followed it with _Well, not any more wrong than usual..._

Perhaps she really _was_ just tired. She had reason to be; the worries on her mind were significant, and lately the drain on her personal Prana had been even worse than usual. She was certain she could handle it... mostly... but it was probably normal to spend more time in bed. And it wasn't as though anyone here needed her awake; Senpai was probably waiting for her to fall asleep so he and Saber could leave to participate in the War, in fact. And at the moment, she was sorely tempted to oblige him.

**_So tired..._ **

It was dark.

Sakura couldn't see the ground in front of her, and suspected that there wasn't any. She felt solid ground, but it wasn't _really_ solid, and... everything just seemed _off_. Somehow...

Ah.

Ah- _ha_.

"I've been here before, haven't I?" Sakura asked.

" ** _I'm surprised you remember. You shouldn't..."_**

"I didn't... at first. While I was awake. It just seemed to fade into the back of my mind..." Sakura admitted. She then sat down, cross-legged, on the nothingness.

" ** _You are taking this rather well."_**

"I'm dreaming, aren't I? There's nothing to be worried about." Sakura said. "I assume it's not a normal dream, but... nothing about me has ever been very normal. And I already know that whoever you are, I shouldn't listen to what you have to say. You proved that last time."

**_"It was a valid offer. You deserve revenge, Sakura."_ **

"I don't _want_ it." Sakura said. "And I don't want anything else a booming voice from the darkness has to offer, either. Especially not one that... you tried to talk me into _killing_ my only family! The man I..."

 ** _"Shhhh. I understand, and I apologize. Clearly, your interests do not intersect with my own, but this can be remedied. And if 'a booming voice from the darkness' does not inspire trust..."_** The darkness that seemed to make up the entire visible area folded in on itself, warped and shifted, taking on the form of a woman. "... will this do?"

Sakura looked at her in some confusion. She was beautiful, certainly, if a bit unusual in appearance; long, lustrous azure hair, shining eyes, gently pointed ears, modest but noticeable curves sheathed in a simple white shift. Her age was difficult to pin down, as well... she didn't appear noticeably older than Sakura herself, but something about her had an air of maturity to it. And of course, Sakura could hardly fail to notice the meaning in this...

"Ah. You're a Servant." Sakura said softly. "I _really_ can't trust you, then."

"Oh?" The woman asked, with a slight smile.

"This is the Holy Grail War, and I'm the Master of Rider. You expect me to believe your Master doesn't put you up to this, knowing that?"

The woman laughed, and it sounded like bells. "My Master would be _you_ , dear. But then, I can certainly believe you have some hidden urges."

Sakura's eyes widened. " _What_? That makes no..."

"Is it quite necessary to question it? As you noticed, I don't think you'll be recalling this when you awaken anyway." The woman said. "Besides, I do have something to show you."

A snap of delicate fingers, and the scene shifted from nothingness to...

Sakura's eyes widened once again. The room she found herself in was impossibly lovely... far more lavish than the Matou manor had _ever_ been, more stunning than even her nostalgia-enhanced memories of her childhood home. But now, she found herself seated in a grand hall... no, a _throne room_ , a _palace_. White marble floors inlaid with gold, pillars carved with floral patterns and adorned with gemstones... Sakura could scarcely imagine the cost, but it must have been more than half of Fuyuki combined.

And the figure occupying the throne outshone it all.

It was Sakura... after a fashion. Sakura with every imperfection smoothed out, every tiny flaw in her appearance corrected. She wore a dark gown that seemed like something alive, yet rather than being disturbing the effect simply made her seem majestic. A crown set with a black diamond sat atop her perfectly coiffed hair.

"So revenge is not something you desire? That's fine." The woman said. "The power is _yours,_ Sakura, and if you accept it, then you can do whatever you wish. To rule all the nations of the earth is not something beyond you. You could be revered as a queen, as a _Goddess_. Never again would you be forced to live in squalor or torment... all living things would kneel before your power. And I do mean _all_."

The scene blurred, and shifted, and 'Empress Sakura' was no longer the only figure in the room. More specifically, some of that promised kneeling was certainly taking place...

"The sister you stand in awe of would be your humble servant.

"The man whose love you pine over would throw himself at your feet _begging_ for your attention.

"The brother who so abuses you would live in terror of you, ever at your mercy.

"And your grandfather... would make whatever _penance_ you commanded of him, for his unforgivable sins.

"Tell me, Sakura: is this more to your liking?"

"It's... it's a bit _lavish_." Sakura said.

"... I don't understand. Are you questioning the possibility of it all? Sakura, your power is beyond anything even _you_ can comprehend. All of this and _more_ can be..."

"No, I'm... well. I don't really..." Sakura said softly. "I don't _want_ this."

"... … I still do not understand."

"Well, I... I understand why some people would. But I don't want to _rule_ my sister... Senpai... even nii-san. I... I just want to live. I've never wanted anyone to _worship_ me. I... I'm sorry. This is... well, I think that you really _are_ trying. Maybe you do mean well, since this is... well, _better_. Than the last time, I mean." Sakura said. "It's just... not me."

"I... do not understand you." The woman said. "But I'm not here to force you into anything, dear. All I seek is to outline the potential you have within, nothing more, nothing less. If you disapprove... we shall have to try again, another night. Maintaining this connection is a strain, and my resources are needed elsewhere, so..."

"Wait!" Sakura said.

"... yes, my dear?"

"Since... since I don't seem to have any say in seeing you, I should at least know what to call you. If... if you're a Servant, you might die soon. And... I guess that despite everything, for whatever reason, you don't mean me any harm, at least. So I'd like to know what I should call you." Sakura said softly, smiling.

The woman's eyes widened. "Me? Well, that's not much to ask, I suppose. I wouldn't want Rider to know, but you won't think to tell her once you're conscious. I am Cast- no. No, I think you should call me Medea."

Sakura smiled warmly, even as the world faded into more mundane sleep. "Medea, then."

* * *

 

Caster gazed upon the Shadow, and smiled.

Her... entreaties... to Sakura were going better than she'd expected. Not perfect, but progress was being made. She could admit that her first, clumsy effort had been a mistake; her understanding of what the girl truly desired limited, to say the least. Sakura was a confusing young woman... how could anyone in her position, who had suffered the _indignities_ that she had, not crave vengeance? Medea, in her position, would have welcomed, _reveled_ in the offer to slaughter every last one of the animals who had harmed or neglected her, and yet Sakura had been nothing less than _horrified._

But Caster was not a fool. She had observed, learned, and tailored the next offer to be less blatantly hostile, and in turn gotten a far less staunch resistance. She would wait a bit, and the next offer would be more effective still. The girl would come to trust her, eventually, and when she did, she would welcome her destiny with open arms. What Sakura's family had failed to achieve by force, Caster would achieve with gentle persuasion and temptation. It was only a matter of finding the proper bait. It was easier and... well, the girl was not an unpleasant person. It was better to do it gently, Caster had no grudge against the child.

And then, Sakura would become the _perfect_ weapon. The ones responsible for Souichiro-sama's death would be destroyed by the very instrument of their own designs, and the irony _alone_ would be enough to bring a small warmth back to Caster's heart. The ultimate revenge.

In the meantime, she had reclaimed her Temple, and now that Sakura was asleep she was able to once again bring her favorite pet back into a physical manifestation. It had been damaged badly in the battle the previous night, but the mana she was draining from the town had proven an excellent medicine. The dark creature's thrashing was not as weak as it had been, the tendrils growing and unfurling rapidly. It was not yet ready to hunt again, but...

**_Hunger..._ **

"Shhhh... that's all right, my dear. Tonight, you will have to settle for something less filling. Soon, though. You still have many Servants to devour, and..."

" ** _Nah, I think we're ready now. You hungry, ugly? Me too. Let's find you something to sink your teeth into."_**

It was an open verbal declaration, far different from the Shadow's wordless emotional transferance, and it rang through the temple with an open pride that was impossible to miss. The words seemed to have a significant impact on the Shadow... the thrashing redoubled, the wordless declarations of hunger grew both more frequent and far more _insistent._ Caster, an ancient, all-powerful sorceress, said the only thing that came to her nigh-boundless mind in this situation.

"... … … … huh?" Caster said.

 **" _Be careful what you feed your pets, right? Indigestion is almost as much of a bitch as you are!"_** The voice chuckled, as her newly summoned pet began to dissolve into the ground without so much as a by-your-leave, drawn out into the night to satiate its hunger...

"... … … _what?_ " Caster said, staring at the empty space that had just recently held her greatest weapon.

* * *

 

Sakura had fallen asleep earlier than they'd expected. Shirou was more than a little worried that this was a sign her illness persisted, despite her claims otherwise, but at least she seemed to be sleeping comfortably and he truly could not think of anything else he could do to help her. If she was in fact still sick, then the best he could do would be to let her rest.

"Heh..." Shirou said. "You know, this is the first time we've gone to participate in the war in days."

"I do not think that is funny." Saber said.

"... … … and neither do I." Shirou said.

"I wonder about that." The Servant said as they walked. "I understand the desire to protect Sakura. Her own family will not, so Chivalry demands nothing less of any honorable knight. But you have been abandoning me for long periods of time each day, with no explanation. This is an unneeded risk, Shirou. You must understand... Shirou, most Masters will not be active in the daylight hours, for fear of the Magus' Association intervening. _But this is not a guarantee._ If you are not with me, Servant Assassin could drag you into an alley and snap your neck in a heartbeat, in broad daylight without ever being seen! And _that_ is merely the most obvious threat!"

"Well... I know it's a risk, but..."

"But what? Shirou, I cannot protect you without your trust. _What_ is so important that you feel the need to not merely leave my side, but _lie_ to me about it?"

Shirou was in a jam, at this point. 'I have to go on my daily dates with a small girl because she's one of the few things lately that can make me feel at peace' was out of the question, but Saber wasn't going to let him off easily. And Hell, maybe it didn't matter... after today, Ilya might not even want to _talk_ to him again, and he didn't even know what he'd _done._

First Ilya, now Saber... why were girls so _complicated?_

Still, he suspected that Saber wasn't going to let this go without an answer, and he didn't have one. He was worried about Ilya, and he was worried about Sakura, and nothing made any _sense_ and all the women in his life were _crazy._

So he chose to undertake a tried-and-true method for dealing with inquisitiveness: make vague sounds until something else happened to distract the situation.

Just make vague sounds. "Hmmmmmm..." He said.

Yes, that was vague enough. Something would come along to distract her anytime now...

"Hmmmmmmm..."

Any time.

Something did come along, but when it did, Shirou admittedly found it to be pretty distracting to himself, too.

Shirou stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of one of the _last_ people he had expected to see this evening.. "You... you're..."

Zouken Matou smiled warmly at the approaching duo, seemingly unfazed by the young lady in armor who followed Shirou. "Ah, yes... the young Emiya, correct? You have been taking care of my granddaughter, I hope." The old man said cheerfully. The scene around him was oddly wrong. Just an old man taking a walk in the park under the moon, what was so strange about th-

"Shirou!" Saber hissed. "Back away! This man is not human!"

_What? Not human, he's Sakura's grandf-_

And midway through the thought, Shirou realized what it was that struck him as so very wrong about the scene. The grass at the old man's feet was... _writhing_. Even in the darkness, Shirou could see that something was moving through the foliage. No... a _lot_ of somethings...

"Yeah..." Shirou said. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"Oh, these?" Zouken chuckled. Something hissed in the grass at his feet. "Some pets of mine. I'm afraid that following my grandson's rather shameful display against Berserker's young Master, I've had to step in and reclaim a bit of the family pride. I have no Servant of my own at the moment, but I felt that playing a small game with the War might offer some intriguing possibilities. I doubt I shall be claiming the Grail for Makiri, but... well, one never knows."

"Makiri...?" Shirou asked, blinking.

Zouken laughed out loud at this. "My, my... you know nothing of Makiri, yet let Sakura live under your roof? You participate in the Holy Grail War without even basic knowledge of the Three Families! Truly, even this old heart finds some small humor in how horribly prepared Kiritsugu Emiya left his heir..."

"What? What are you talking ab-" Shirou asked, moving forward to, if needed, force the information out of the old man... until a gauntleted hand grasped his shoulder, halting him.

"Shirou..." Saber said. "Stay behind me."

The strange, rustling hissing grew louder. And beneath it, Shirou could hear the skittering of something chitinous in the street behind them. "Actually, Saber, I don't know how much use that will be..."

Zouken chuckled. "I'm not certain why the Lady Einzbern chose to spare you, young man, but know that I am less generous. You may yet be of some use, but you are hardly a necessity. Yes... yes, I believe there is no particular reason for you to leave here alive."

"Shirou. Remember your training, and try to stay alive." Saber said, as the sounds of the swarm grew louder. "I will protect you as best I can..."

 _" **Won't help**_."

And with that insolent, casual boast, the stars went out.

"Impossible..." Zouken murmured.

"Saber..." Shirou said. "What..."

A black space in the night, just barely in sight. The scent of rot and blood thick in the air, and growing thicker.

The thing didn't exactly walk, or crawl, or ooze... it didn't really appear to move at all, it just 'got closer', the lights on the side of the street dying as it passed them, tendrils of black trailing behind it. Shirou felt his head begin to ache just looking at it, as though he were at the bottom of the ocean, staring at some primordial creature of the depths with millions of tons of pressure crushing down on his mind. "What... what am I looking at..."

"No..." Zouken said, an edge of hysteria entering his tone. "No, no, no! How could it be here?"

"Shirou..." Saber said. "We should retreat. _Now!"_

" ** _Aw, but you're gonna miss the party..._** " Said that strange, and strangely familiar, voice. The dark creature halted, and seemed to... _unfold_ , for lack of a better term. The waving tendrils parted, and from out of the space in the night ( _Right out of it. How could anything touch that... that thing? It makes no sense..._ ) stepped a silhouette just as dark as the amorphous presence itself, but far more recognizable.

The man was tall, taller even than Shirou. He was coated from the neck down in jagged black war steel, gloves and boots in particular tipped with vicious hooks and spikes. His hair was jet black, and a half-mask covered his eyes, leaving the impression he was a piece of the night come alive, save for one very noticeable spot of white... his teeth, bared in a grin that bore a strong resemblance to one a deep-sea swimmer might see rushing toward them when blood was in the water.

The black knight extended one arm, and a vicious black and red lance appeared in his hand, seeming to further darken the area by its mere presence.

"That old guy had the right general idea," Lancer said. "He just didn't think it through all the way.

 _"Nobody_ gets out of here alive tonight."


	14. Black Wolf Howling

"No…" Saber said softly. "It can't be…"

 _She recognizes him? That's impossible. It can't be a person. I can't sense a person. He looks like a person, but he feels even more ominous than that thing. At least it only feels empty… he wants to kill us, he'd definitely **enjoy** killing everyone here…! _Shirou thought, still having a hard time focusing his mind on the situation. But… some tiny voice in the back of his head said that the slender man in the black armor _did_ look familiar…

Still smiling, he leveled his lance directly at Saber, as if nobody else in the world existed anymore. The manic smile only widened. "You. You first. Nobody lives, but you are the one who goes first. Come on, Saber, you know you weren't happy with how it went last time. You want it almost as much as I do…" he practically _purred_ , his voice hideously intimate. "Let's play."

Saber's response was immediate and visceral. She wrapped one arm around Shirou's waist, lifted him over her shoulder, and ran like Hell.

"Was… was that…?" Shirou began, watching as the scene before him began to shrink with Saber's mana-charged footsteps rapidly pulling him away from it.

"He'll catch us shortly." Saber said tersely. "But Lancer is a foe I can face and that creature with him is not. I need to put some distance between them, however I can!"

"Then… then that _is_ Lancer? But what _happened_ to him?" Shirou asked. The Lancer who had attacked… who had _killed_ him, he supposed… had been completely different. Certainly not 'cuddly' by any stretch of the imagination, but he had never shown such an overwhelming aura of sadism and bloodlust. He had been vicious, but also strangely noble, like an alpha wolf on the hunt. Now…

_If that's Lancer, he's become a monster._

"I don't know, and at the moment it doesn't matter. What matters is getting out of here alive…!" Saber said.

Lancer watched the girl and the boy retreat with little concern. The tendrils of the Shadow began to slowly ooze after them, and Lancer waved his hand in the thing's direction. "No. I can catch them; I'll cut Saber's legs off and drag her back here for you to eat. Stay here."

"Then you survived as well?" Zouken asked. "And you're like Caster? Independent…?"

"Eh, sorta." Lancer shrugged. "It's complicated and you're not any fun to banter with. I prefer a cute girl and you're… well. Not."

"I had no idea it had advanced so far, so quickly. When more Servants had fallen, perhaps, but it is already capable of this much?" Zouken said, ignoring him. This was both encouraging and troublesome. Obviously, his plans required the weapon possess as much power as it could hold and more. But… should it _be_ this powerful, so early in the game? Eventually it should be capable of this and more, but this was exceeding expectations and with magic that could be _very dangerous_. And how had it shown up here, tonight, without his summons? This was a very disturbing turn of events indeed. He would need to take measures to control it more tightly, but to be frank he wasn't sure _how_ without decreasing its overall potential as a container. Yes, this would require some…

Lancer turned that sharklike smile on the old magus without concern, interrupting his reverie. "You seem confused."

"Well… this will need to be looked into. Caster, I had hoped, was an aberration, but apparently things are moving more quickly than anticipated. For the moment, I suppose what matters is the results. Pursue Saber and bring at least the body back." Zouken said. He _was_ still in command here. The Shadow may have arrived of its own volition, but his power still held it in sway.

"Sure thing. Oh, and one more detail…?" Lancer said.

"Yes, what i-" Zouken began.

'Began' because halfway through the sentence, the black lance annihilated his head with a single thrust.

"I know I told Saber she was first, but honestly I don't really care all that much about the order you all die in," Lancer said mildly. Then, his grin redoubling at the kill, he took off in pursuit of Saber.

The body of the old mage broke down, dissolving into a cloud of worms that scrambled away from the creeping Shadow that still haunted the area. One familiar touched the black tendrils and let out a shrill screech as it dissolved.

The newly disembodied Zouken let out a mental sigh. Had this been Lancer's own doing, something about his nature allowing him the independence to act free of his Master's will? Or had his materials just subconsciously defied him by _ensuring_ that its new Servant would ignore his commands? _Yes,_ he thought, _this situation is definitely troublesome._

* * *

 

Given the size of their head start, Shirou had honestly believed they were safe.

Saber was impossibly quick; even carrying him, she ran like a swift wind. Even a car would likely have had trouble keeping up with her.

But then he saw a darkness that stood out even against the pitch black nightscape, saw the occasional flash of blood-red adorning the armor or the cursed lance. Saw these things getting closer and closer. If Saber was the wind, then Lancer was a bolt of black lightning.

"… damn." Saber said, seeing the same problem. "I need to deal with this. At least it appears that Lancer is our only nemesis for the moment; I can handle him, provided you are safe. Do forgive me."

"For whAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Shirou said as Saber tossed him, with all her considerable strength, into a nearby bush, before turning on her heel to meet Lancer's charge.

… … … _this bush has thorns…_ Shirou thought.

Saber spun, drawing her blade, the wind howling around the invisible sword as it materialized in her hands. Lancer was _fast_ , faster perhaps even than Rider had been, and he would be upon her…

The spear slammed home against her guard with such force that the pavement beneath her planted feet cracked. "Did you miss me?" He asked.

Saber slid her blade free and looped it around in an overhead chop, slamming the spear aside and lunging for his throat. He spun his weapon to knock aside the thrust, slashing at her legs even he knocked her slash skyward. Saber mirrored his own movement, using the momentum of her blade being batted aside to bring her sword wheeling around to strike the lance swinging towards her legs. The weapons locked again with a clash of metal and thunder, Invisible Air kicking up sparks of static against the cursed lance. The two Servants leapt backward as one to break the lock, and Saber cursed under her breath; she hadn't wanted to let him get distance, with his longer weapon.

"Lancer… that is you, isn't it?" She asked.

The shark-like smile was so wide it looked as though his face would split, but it somehow got wider still. "Miss me?"

"… hmph. I might have relished the chance to face the _true_ Lancer again." Saber admitted. "But this? I don't know the details, yet, but it's obvious what's happened, Lancer. I don't know how, but you've fallen very, very far. Cutting you down once would have been a great honor. Now, I think it will just be a mercy."

Lancer tilted his head to one side. "Fallen? Saber… you know who I am. I spent my entire life desiring battle. Glory. And I spent each and every _bit_ of it as someone's damn _lapdog._ The Hound of Chulann… but oooooh, things are different now! My new Master runs only on instinct. It has no goals, it's just a monster that wants to feed, to hunt and kill the Seven Servants. To face down each one, defeat them, and devour them." Lancer said, his tone growing steadily more excited. "That's all it wants to do, and all it wants _me_ to do. And I can do it however I want, with my so-called Master too mindless to do anything about it but follow me in a frenzy, begging for scraps. I don't have anyone holding me back, Saber. Nobody's leash stopping me from claiming the ultimate battle that I always wanted.

"Fallen? For the first time in my life, _I'm free_!"

And with a roar of purest joy and bloodlust, he charged.

Saber met his lunge in earnest this time, their blades slamming home with force enough to raise a gale around them from the shock. Saber gritted her teeth, digging her feet in and releasing a burst of prana through her legs to hold back the monster's charge. Finally, with a last burst of strength, swatted the spear far to the side and stepped into Lancer's guard, too close to his body, and he was off-balance…

The lance swept back in, an angle she had not anticipated as Lancer slipped the weapon down in his grip so he was holding it just below the blade. It was a ridiculously awkward way to hold a lance, but his speed was enough to make it _almost_ the sort of trick blow she might have been worried about…

If she hadn't seen it coming.

With her own savage grin, she removed one hand from her blade's hilt to strike the weak, unbalance strike aside, letting it pass harmlessly a few inches from her head, while her remaining hand brought her blade home in a jagged slash across his chest. He was wearing armor himself, and her sword wasn't meant to be swing one handed, but she was rewarded with the sound of metal on metal dissolving into something soft and wet before he swung his foot up in a savage kick, which Saber reversed her charge to avoid.

Lancer pressed a gauntleted hand to his chest. It wasn't a deep cut, but red was visible against the solid black of his armor. He smirked and licked his fingers clean. "First blood to you," he said cheerfully, "second to me."

Saber wondered briefly what he meant by that… and then felt it. A steady stream of warmth on the side of her face the lance had passed by. Even more alarming, she could feel a similar warmth _underneath_ her armor, even though the blade had not pierced it.

Saber touched her cheek, feeling the sting of a shallow cut. _The blade did not touch me, I'm certain of that. So how…_

"Ha! Looks like Gae Bolg took to this rather well." Lancer said. "The cursed spear… being touched by a new curse only made it deadlier. I have to say I didn't see this coming, but I can't disapprove; my spear seeks your blood without even a command on my part, so even a near miss… Oh, Saber, this is going to be _so_ much fun! Block all you want, I'll see that blood on the ground. And who knows what other new tricks I've picked up! I bet you're as excited as I am!"

He dropped into a ready stance, his weapon held at the leveled at her heart and the cut on his chest already closing. "Come on, Knight of the Sword. Let's see which one of us is the better killer."

* * *

 

Caster sighed in annoyance as she gazed into the image. _He was a mistake. I see that now._

Cu Chulann, Ireland's Son of Light. Demigod, master of runic magic, and legendary warrior who had resisted the temptation of goddesses… where Caster had accepted the darkness and worked with it, Lancer had merely fended it off and not been 'corrupted' so much as… _unleashed_ , his naturally violent instincts rising to the surface.

And like Caster herself, his combination of magical knowledge and emotional compatibility allowed him some measure of control over her 'pet'. Not as much as she had, but enough to whip it into a frenzy in order to go on the hunt, and then calm it again when he wished to make the kill alone.

Caster sighed. _Not good. Very, very, not good. My plans did not need this sort of wild card._

Still, things could have been worse. If he killed Saber here, the Shadow would indeed feed. And if she managed to destroy him, she would be weakened and Caster could lead her pet in conquering her. She would be a suitable replacement guard dog for the uncomfortably unpredictable Lancer.

On the edge of her field of perception, far from the battle between the two Servants, something familiar stirred.

Caster smiled. _On the other hand… mayhaps I should simply go dog shopping while I wait?_

* * *

 

Atop the overlooking building, Rin took a deep breath, the cool night air chilling her lungs. "Well? What do you think?"

Archer considered his options, even as the blade in his hands altered itself subtly, taking on the characteristics that would allow it to be used as an arrow. "Can I get back to you?"

The Master and Servant had unsure of their path, after the chaos of the previous night. They knew a direct assault on Ryudou Temple was out of the question, but Rin was antsy, and Archer was physically in perfect shape. Going on patrol seemed better than waiting at home sitting on their hands. Spotting Saber and Emiya had just been… luck, Rin supposed. She was less sure if it was good luck or bad.

And then that utterly wrong black _thing_ from the Temple had shown up, and she knew that once more the universe had elected to _screw her._

"At least… at least it isn't Caster, again." Rin said.

"Lancer isn't exactly better, Rin." Archer. "I had hoped he was just dead, not… worse."

Really, if he was just going by the logic of the Holy Grail War, this was a perfect shot. One Broken Phantasm and he could remove Lancer and Saber in one fell swoop. And certainly, getting rid of Saber would make his own goals easier to accomplish in the long run. But…

Things were going wrong. So very, very wrong. That Shadow, and the corruption of Caster and Lancer… nothing was as he remembered it. He had fully realized that the odds of him being called into the situation as a 'cleaner' were high, and he wanted to resolve it before that happened, if at all possible. And to do that, he'd need allies. Preferably stupidly loyal allies who he could be totally certain would not betray their word. Saber and Shirou Emiya fit _that_ bill perfectly.

"I think… that I'm mostly worried about that abomination and its corrupted Servants. I think that we should focus on that problem, and worry about Saber later." Archer said, setting the 'arrow' and preparing to draw back the bowstring. It wasn't the _whole_ explanation, but it was the part Rin needed to know.

Rin let out a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding. "Yeah. Yeah, I agree." Emiya might not have been very bright, certainly, but he was a classmate and a decent guy. She didn't owe him anything at all, but she also had nothing _against_ him other than the fact that they were both Masters, and if he was dead that was just one less line of protection around Sakura. She would kill him herself, if she had to, but the longer she could keep herself from having to, the better. Silently, for the first and the last time, she thanked Zouken Matou for making a general nuisance of himself. "So, focus on Lancer, then. Kill him if you can."

Archer took aim. Lancer was distracted, his full concentration on Saber, the two striking with bullet speed and razor intensity again and again. He wouldn't be able to intercept the projectile, and Archer could take him with the first shot. _Not the head, he's moving too fast, it's too small… go for the heart. Even if I miss I'll inflict serious damage. Saber can finish him off._

"δηλητήριο ομίχλη φυλακή." Said a cheerful feminine voice, and Archer noticed with a great deal of concern two things.

First, someone had snuck on both himself and Rin, while they were on high alert.

Second, in less than a second, the air around him had turned into a thick, viscous black liquid that began forcing its way down his throat and strangling his limbs.

He was, admittedly, more concerned about the latter.

Rin was no fool. When the sphere of misty black sludge enfolded Archer, she instantly leapt backwards to avoid the almost-certain attack on herself as well, and was rewarded by the sight of the spell growing to enclose the area she had been standing in seconds before. Eyes wide, she scanned the rooftop, looking for the source of the spell… though she knew full well who it had to be.

 _A spell powerful enough to bind a Servant, cast with nothing but a few words? There's only one possible culprit._ And as luck would have it, she wasn't even trying to hide.

Even to Rin, who had never seen the woman up close before, it was obvious that there was something wrong with Servant Caster. She floated above them, her cape spread wide like a pair of wings, that she could have accepted easily, but…

That cape was black, blacker than the night sky behind it, except for the sickly, blood-red streaks running through it like arteries in some kind of twisted monster's body. In fact, much of her was black; the robes that covered her body, and with her hood pulled back, Rin could see that even the eyes set in her pale face were a solid ebony. Her hair was white, though, as was the skin of her face. She looked like a phantom… beautiful, but cold. Dark.

 _She's like Lancer. That… that dark thing, it got to her too._ Was Rin's first thought.

 _She's going to kill me_. Was Rin's second thought, even as she slipped a jewel into her hand. _She contained Archer in seconds; she could kill me easily, gems or no gems. I can't match that kind of power._

"What a lovely young lady," Caster purred. "Tell me, dear heart, would you like to live? All you have to do is walk away. I care only for your Servant, right now."

Rin chuckled bitterly. "And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"I gain nothing by killing you."

"You gain less by letting me live."

"Is that what you believe? Maybe you have a use to me you haven't considered yet." Caster said, her voice lending the words intimacy, like she was trying to caress Rin with just her voice. Her eyes might have been cold, but her voice certainly wasn't; chocolate for the ears. In different circumstances, Rin could have just sat and listened to her talk for hours. "Such a _lovely_ young lady, ending your life would be a true shame. Why not just leave now? Or better yet, why not come and work for me? I can always use more pets, and I'll take good care of you…"

"Tempting, I'm sure." Rin said, smiling wickedly. "But even if I trusted you for a second, I'm not the sort to play second-fiddle to anyone. I'm my own Master, and a good Master doesn't leave her Servant behind."

Caster chuckled. "Well… you have spirit, anyway. Not much in the way intellect, but a _lot_ of spirit." She raised her staff, and the air around her began to warp, and grow dark…

Rin held the jewel ready, to release the power within. It wouldn't be enough, not by half, but she could maybe deflect this one spell enough to get to some cover and work out a way to get to Arch-

She heard something, then; a few words, clearly an incantation of some sort. They were muffled, so not from Caster, and besides the voice was male. But they couldn't have been Archer, how could he have possibly spoken? Yet she could _feel_ them, deep in her bones, and with this feeling… a glimmering silver blade, the masterwork weapon of a true hero, pierced the sphere of black sludge and shredded it to release all of the viscous gel inside in a single smooth swing.

Archer fell to his knees, coughing up sludge and using the broadsword he'd gotten from… from nowhere… as support. "Uck. That was less than pleasant… Rin, stay back, I think this is some kind of poison. It's not affecting me too harshly, but you're another story."

Caster smiled, her gathering attack held back. "Oh, my. It seems I underestimated you."

Archer smiled insolently at the witch in the skies, the thick poison still dripping from his soaked body. "Not a big surprise. Your eyes are a little cloudy, you probably couldn't see me very well…"

"Ah, a comedian." Caster said. The bolts of dark fire in the air around her once again began to gather strength. "It's been so long since I've seen a live show, allow me to be your first critic: _you're not funny._ "

Archer rose to his feet and held his sword ready. "Whatever happened to throwing tomatoes...?" He asked.

It wasn't much of a battle cry, but hey.

* * *

 

Saber fell back, breathing heavily and bleeding from a dozen minor wounds, Lancer's mocking laughter ringing in her ears.

"Starting to wear out, Saber?" He taunted. "You're not as energetic as you used to be."

She didn't dignify that with a reply, merely raised her blade in preparation for the next exchange.

"Thooooooough…" He said, idly spinning his weapon on his finger. "I gotta say, this isn't as great as I was hoping. You started off strong, but not much in the way of endurance. Holding back on me?"

"How _dare_ you imply a knight would fight with anything less than total commitment to victory!" Saber snarled. "I will make you choke on that insult, monster!"

"So not holding back. More like… _held_ back?" Lancer smirked. His masked gaze turned slightly to his right, towards a…. particular bush. "Not much of a Master, Saber? He's not giving you what you need to be your best, I can tell.

"I know… maybe this would be more fun if I got rid of him and let you find another!"

Saber's eyes widened in horror as the realization sunk in. She dashed towards Shirou, but Lancer burst into motion the same instant, they had to cross the same distance…

And he was so much faster.

For the third time in his life, Shirou Emiya saw the tip of the legendary spear rushing at him. The world seemed to slow… his limbs felt like stone. Saber and Lancer moved in slow motion.

He was going to die. Again.

And it had all been a waste.

Working with Saber, training all those years, trying _so hard_ to become someone who could protect the whole world…

All that work, and he still couldn't protect himself. He was still so _helpless_.

 _If only you had a weapon…_ Said something inside him.

Yes.

Yes.

_Yes._

His eyes focused on the lance with laserlike intensity. It was a thing of beauty, even stained black. If he had a weapon like _that_ , he could fight back. Something of power and grace like the lance, to repel the lance.

_I need a weapon. A weapon of power. But my hands are empty, I don't even have a stick or…_

_A sword._

_You need a sword._

_The Red Knight stood before the Black Giant in the night, and drew blades from the very air. So many, but none that fit his grip so well as the white blade that outshone the moon, and the black blade that drank in the light. The way they looked was just like…_

_Just like the image in your mind, screaming through your blood, see them in your mind's eye so clearly it's like they're in your **own** hands… _

**_I-ne-of-y-ord_ **

Shirou felt ice behind his veins, and smelled the scent of frost. He felt the tickle of ivory hair on his brow, and behind it all…

He could almost _see_ the Magic Circuits snap to life, burning with a new cold fire, like nothing that had ever happened in his training.

And he _could_ see the swords. In his mind. In the air.

_In his hands…_

Kanshou and Bakuya screamed as Gae Bolg slammed into them with so much force Shirou felt his arms would break.

"The _Hell?_ " Lancer snapped, his mouth dropping in open shock as his blade was halted against all expectations.

Shirou smiled slightly. The entire world just seemed… so _fake_ right now. Everything was blurring, and static seemed to burst behind his eyes. Hairline cracks already covered the twin swords in his hands – _No, no swords in my hands, just an image, not good enough, like light reflecting off glass—_ and his body and mind seemed to be cracking in much the same way.

"I… I was hoping… you could tell me…" Shirou murmured. He fell backwards, the blurriness turning to darkness. The last thing he heard was the distinctive ring of Saber's sword striking aside the spear, and he smiled…

* * *

 

Ilya sighed, and stared glumly at the Emiya household.

Berserker stood behind her, as motionless as a statue. He would, at her order, leap upon the house and leave it a mess of tinder and glass, killing everything inside. Shirou wasn't home… she'd been watching for hours. He would be fine. There was nothing to stop her from destroying the source of the Black Grail, here and now; she knew it was in there, could feel it throbbing in her mind, like a worm crawling under her skin. It would be obliterated, and the Servants it had corrupted would vanish. Order would be restored, and Shirou would never know…

_But he would be so sad._

And there was the problem. Ilya wanted to care only about Shirou. That was logical. But… well, caring about him was turning out to be _hard_. She didn't just care about his health, she cared about his _happiness_. His smile. Anything that stole Shirou's smile was evil, she knew that deep in her soul. She wanted him, with all her heart, to be _happy_ and to keep smiling at her with that warmth only he had. And she knew that this? Would not do that.

_It's the right thing to do._

_But I don't think I can do it._

"Berserker… I wish you could talk…" Ilya said softly, clutching her head as if that could somehow squeeze the conflicting feelings out. "I… this is so… I feel like I don't know what's _right_ anymore. It used to be so simple. I feel like just a few days ago, I didn't know anything at all, and I almost miss it. At least then I was _sure_ of myself. I wasn't divided, my head wasn't _pounding_ with all these thoughts and feelings and doubts and…!"

_Images._

_Flash. A black lance in the night. Swords, white and black, and the scent of snow in the air around them…_

Ilya's eyes widened. _Shirou? Did I just…_ She had seen him. Sensed him. She hadn't been looking, but… perhaps this close to the Black Grail, she was picking up sensations from its servitors? They were alike. Or… she had given Shirou a significant dose of her prana, in an unguarded situation. She might be sensing that, somehow. Perhaps both. Her approach to magecraft was more instinct than training, she didn't know.

Whatever the case… Shirou was endangered. Saber was with him, she'd seen them leave together, but she _knew_ he was in danger. He needed help. He needed _her._

_If I destroy the Black Grail now, the Servants it has touched will lose their power. Perhaps disappear altogether. That would be the easy way._

_That would be the smart way._

… … … _but… I don't think it's what Shirou would do_.

"Berserker!" She snapped. "We're leaving. We're going after Shirou and Saber. They're in danger and… and I don't care how stupid it is anymore! I've decided we're going, and we're saving him, right now!

"And _God help_ anyone who tries to get in my way because _I am in a very bad mood_."

 


	15. Shining Night

_Black, and white._

_The night sky was blacker than pitch, without a star to be seen. And yet, despite the utter absence of light, he could still see the snow, a featureless plain of white stretching as far as the eye could see. The bleakness of it was almost unbearable; the impossible contrast was nothing that could be seen in nature. It was wrong. Utterly wrong._

_And yet… he was not afraid. There was something strangely compelling, reassuring about this place. Despite the utter desolation, it was… comfortable, somehow._

" _It's bleak, isn't it?" asked a soft, female voice. "There was nothing, for a long time. But look…"_

_Soft white mittens brushed aside a small pile of snow, revealing the only color he had seen here, a tiny patch of green. A sapling, struggling through the frost._

" _This place was cold for so long. She's been alone, all alone when we should have been holding her hand, helping her grow. But there was no-one, and she was frozen. Stuck in time, with nothing to pull her into the real world." He felt, more than saw, her smile. "Until you. For the first time, she's starting to change. Become a real person. It's still so cold but a thaw has started. You're really helping her. Thank you."_

" _I… I don't know who…" Shirou said._

_A soft mitten brushed his cheek. He hadn't even realized how cold it was, until it vanished from that one spot._

" _Shirou… someone I loved very much wanted you to be happy, so you're precious to me, too. I want you to have a normal, happy life. It breaks my heart to ask this of you, to take you away from that. But there's no-one else, and even if I don't have a right, I have a responsibility._

" _Take care of her, please? She needs you so much more than you know."_

 _Shirou didn't know this woman, didn't know what she was asking; wasn't even sure that any of this was_ real _. But somehow... no matter how alien it might have looked, he felt at home here. Whatever was happening, he didn't think it was meant to do him harm._

 _And he never_ had _been able to turn down a person in trouble._

_He looked into red eyes filled with sorrow and hope, and took a deep breath. "I'll… I'll try."_

" _Thank you," She said. "That's more than I have any right to ask."_

_He felt her smile, and it was very, very warm._

* * *

 

Lancer looked upon the unconscious boy, his expression one of confused annoyance. "... I swear. No matter how many times I kill that guy, he just won't _die_."

"You will never lay a finger on Shirou again. I will cut you down like the dog you are if you try." Saber said, her voice little more than a feral growl herself. Combined feelings of rage and shame roared through her; to be outmatched by this monster, made to stay on the defensive, unable to strike to his heart as a knight. To have her Master threatened, to fail as his shield. She had rarely felt so helpless, or so _furious_. It was more than her pride as a knight... no, as a King... could bear.

Lancer's expression twisted. " _Dog?_ " he snarled. "You're behind the times, Saber.

"I'm a wolf, now. And I'm hungry."

The lance slashed in at her legs, the speed and dark color making it essentially invisible in the night. But Saber did not need her eyes to see, and even less to fight. The invisible sword had begun its parry before Lancer had ever struck, and batted aside the weapon with feet to spare. Despite this, she felt a tiny twinge of pain beneath her armor, as one more tiny cut opened on her skin without the cursed blade ever touching it. Smirking at her pained expression, Lancer stepped back, launching into a series of lightning jabs. A dozen hammerblows fell on her sword in the space of a second, and while she intercepted each of them... one, two, three tiny new cuts opened on her body, underneath her armor, as the aura of the cursed lance hunted her blood.

 _Damn..._ Saber thought, forcing prana into her limbs. As Lancer brought his blade into a bullet-speed thrust for her throat, she stepped forward and accepted the cut of the weapon's aura for the chance to let it slip past her head and unbalance him. She slammed her sword onto the over-shot spear from beneath, locked the weapons, and using his own lance as a fulcrum, she _flung_ Lancer backwards. He landed nimbly on his feet, but she was not overly concerned; her main goal was to simply get him further from Shirou and get that damn lance as far from her body as she could manage. _If the fight continues in this manner, he will eventually wear me down. The wounds he inflicts are minor, but they are many and they linger, while my own counterattacks heal in seconds. I need to destroy him, take his head or heart in a single, massive stroke. But to get in close enough means getting past the same lance that forces me back..._

Her options were twofold. Kill Lancer, or destroy the Gae Bolg. And she could do neither, as she was now. If Shirou had the power to properly support her, perhaps, but he did not and there was no way to supplement him, at least not at the moment.

But she did have one, final option. Perhaps her only choice from the very beginning. She gazed upon the dark figure, once again smiling that shark's smile, his bared teeth the only part of him that stood out from the night. _It isn't as though he is not an opponent who requires this level of power. And I certainly admit, he is very much an opponent who_ must _be destroyed._ She closed her eyes, letting a tiny echo of sadness touch her heart. _Shirou... the power I require for this may be more than I have to spare. If I do not survive, know that I was proud to be your Servant, despite everything. Live on, if you can._

"What's the matter, Saber?" Lancer purred. "Not a _dog person_? I don't blame ya... those things'll rip your damn throat out."

Saber smirked in return. "Merely thinking that it was a shame, Lancer."

"Dying? Yeah, most people aren't big fans of that. But on the plus side, at least you and I have some practice at it." Lancer laughed, twirling his spear back into a ready combat grip. "I bet you'll think it's easier than ever the second time around."

Saber's smile grew cold and vicious. The wind began to howl, a sudden, strong gust that seemed to come from everywhere around them and yet, somehow seemed to focus the majority of its impact on Lancer, who actually needed to brace himself to avoid being pushed back by the sudden gale. "Not that, cur. I was merely thinking it was a shame... this street is somewhat remote, but people still live too close to think there will not be casualties. I pray for the innocent who will be lost, now, Lancer," Saber said coldly. " _When I shatter the earth with my blade_."

_Release the Wind King._

If the wind had been a gale before, now it was more like a hurricane had fallen between them. A wall of wind, exploding from Saber's sword in a sudden burst of light and sound that even Lancer found it impossible to stand motionless against. His armored boots dug up small trenches in the dirt as he was pushed back several inches merely by the force of the wind.

He smiled. "I _knew_ you were holding out on me." He leapt backwards, raising his weapon; a sickly black and red aura shimmering into being around the lance in answer to the light and wind bursting from Saber's. While she was striking, blinding against the night, he seemed to become one with it. "Shall we play?"

From the center of the storm in Saber's hands, the outline of a golden blade began to shine. Her face was set in a glare of absolute confidence and determination. Her tone one of a judge pronouncing final sentence, she said five words.

" _The game will be short."_

* * *

 

The problem with Caster, Archer mused, was that she was only _half_ stupid.

She was not terribly skilled in combat, and she was prone to breaking down when her plans fell apart. These combined meant she tended to not be a significant threat; when one thing went wrong, other things would go wrong, until she was buried under a mountain of her own mistakes. The issue was getting her to _make_ that first mistake. It tended to happen most often when she thought she had a certain victory and stopped to gloat. When she _wasn't_ certain of victory, she tended to do things like… float sixty feet in the air and just rain fire on whatever the threat was.

Like now.

" _If you throw me into a bush again I will smash your face!"_ Rin shrieked from her place on his shoulder.

"Rin, I am trying to make us not _die_." Archer said, weaving through the endless barrage. "If the best way to do this is to throw you into a bush, or throwing you into a bush would make me laugh, or…"

" _I hate you!_ " Rin screamed as a bolt of pitch-black flame singed her hair.

Archer rolled his eyes, projecting Kanshou and stabbing it into the ground as he ran.

"What was _that?_ " Rin asked.

"Strategy." Archer said. "Too complicated for you, I think."

" _Ass_." Rin said. "LEFT! LEFT!"

Archer shoved off with his right leg, leaping to the side as the street he had been running upon was left a smoking crater.

"Thanks, missed that one." Archer said.

" _Thank me by dodging the next thirty!"_

In the air, far, far above them, Caster brought her hands together. A dozen spheres of bluebell flame with a jet black core burst into existence around her without even a word. A second gesture, and they descended to scour the streets below, once more sending the fleeing Servant into acrobatics as he ran to keep his skin.

Caster smiled. _And people say combat is **hard**_ **.**

Archer looked up to get a position on his attacker, smirking slightly. At least she stood out. "All right, Rin. I'm going to need both hands for what comes next, so I'm going to throw you."

"Just set me down!"

"Too dangerous, can't have you anywhere near me." Archer said. He even _sounded_ honest.

"I can run! Just set me down and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Rin said, as Archer threw her. He was much stronger than a normal person, and he didn't need much more than a fairly low-key motion of his muscles to manage it. In his defense, though, he didn't throw her into a bush again.

It was a pond.

Archer spun on his heels to face Caster, projecting Bakuya into his right hand and drawing it back to throw. Black flame rained down around him, the dark power searing the landscape, and he smiled fiercely in reply. "I," he informed Caster. "Am going to look _really_ impressive if this doesn't get me killed."

He hurled the sword. It spun end-over-end like a buzzsaw, ripping through the sky toward Caster… who, with an almost pitying look, reversed her flight to put her in a position the blade would clearly not pass through.

Archer _tried_ not to smile. A bright white sword flying through the air directly at her face _was_ pretty easy to dodge, he supposed. But then, he hadn't been exactly planning to _hit_ her. A bright white blade coming from the front was easy to see and avoid. Easy to see and _very_ eye-catching, especially in comparison to the black one that was… yes, he could just barely see it flying at her back.

It was really quite impressive, he pondered, how many applications a pair of blades that attracted each other could have.

Bakuya flew past the delicately smiling Magus… and twisted in midair to, from her perspective, home in on her. She raised a hand, a wall of defensive magic deflecting the white blade.

Even as the black sword, unseen, slammed home into her back.

Her cloak, as it had with Assassin's daggers, offered some protection. Rather than outright severing her spine, the sword was deflected into the muscles of her upper back, leaving her twisting in agony… and for the first time in awhile, _not_ filling the sky with killing energy. With the storm of magic done, and no Rin to look after, he _finally_ had the time he needed to ready his counterattack.

An effort of will brought his bow to his hands, but the arrow was worth a bit more effort. " ** _I am the bone of my sword. Steel is my body, and fire is my blood…_**

" _Gram_."

The sword of Sigurd was a bit more than he liked to call up in a single Projection, but even in the agony she was in, her power was still solid. A wall of dark power was between them, and already she was beginning to draw power into a new offensive, her eyes fixed on him and filled with utter, icy rage.

He winked at her, and let the sword-arrow fly, a streak of gold that lit up the night. Caster gestured sharply, and a bolt of sickly violet energy that could have flattened a mountain flew out to meet it. Golden and violet-black light collided, and…

Archer wondered, vaguely, just how the Magus Association kept these Wars secret with all the _explosions_.

But since the end result of the monstrous blast of chaotic energy was a smoking, tattered Caster falling from the sky and slamming into the pavement so hard it cracked? He didn't worry _too_ much.

* * *

 

Ilya watched, and she was not amused.

Even she could see that Lancer's confidence was misplaced: The energy he gathered in his spear was considerable, yes, but the power that Saber drew upon was truly, shockingly immense; far more than she would have imagined such a mediocre Servant possessing, and _vastly_ more than her opponent gathered to face her. That Noble Phantasm would burn the corrupted Lancer to ash with a single blow.

And with Shirou unable to supply the Servant with prana, it would also lead to her death.

Ilya was not sure why this bothered her. In one fell swoop, Saber would be destroying one of the Black Grail's servitors _and_ removing Shirou from the War. So far as Ilya was concerned, it was a win-win situation.

And yet…

And yet.

_Shirou wouldn't want her to fade away._

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, _dammit_. Why was this all so complicated? Why was the simple solution never the _right_ one? And was there anybody in the damn world who Shirou _didn't_ want to protect? Next she would have to be worrying about him getting upset if _Lancer_ died.

… _And he probably wouldn't be happy, at the least. That idiot. It's cute how he's all protective, but it does make my life so much harder. All right, then. I should…_

Mid-thought, she stopped; her mind going blank as a deep chill ran down her spine. What she felt was not so much words as _sensation_ , but the closest she could come to interpreting the dark impulses that ran through her mind like a spider crawling under her skull was:

**It hurts.**

**It hurts.**

**It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts…**

**Existence is pain, is hunger, is cold, is searing desolate agony that had no beginning and will have no ending even when the sun goes black and the world freezes in shadow. There is nothing but blood, and rot, and tiny pointless creatures that have no purpose but to die in anguish. There is no hope, and there will be no respite.**

**Please… please, it hurts so much… even for just a second, please, make it stop…**

Ilya raised her hands to her temples, as if trying to _push_ the images from her mind. She could feel it. A black wind, howling; an aching, bottomless emptiness, so much pain and _so much_ loneliness, like nothing she had ever experienced.

Like seeking like. This close to the Black Grail's extended power, she could feel it under her skin. It was mostly mindless, a roiling mass of dark emotions being kept partially under control, ironically enough, by its own Servants. But those Servants had their attentions fully focused on battle, and the Black Grail was being whipped into a frenzy by the conflict and bloodlust.

And it was moving toward where it knew prey could be found.

_Shirou…_

"Berserker, leave me here and _go!_ " She snapped, squirming out of her Servants arms. He could travel faster on his own… her weight was nothing, of course, it was simply that he could move fast enough to actually _hurt_ her if he really tried.

And right now, she _really_ needed him to try.

* * *

 

Gilgamesh sighed.

He had chosen, this evening, to take a walk. The Church had felt stifling of late, and he considered Kirei's suggestion he remain there to be… ignorable. He did not yet consider the War to be worthy of his personal involvement, and so was not simply obliterating the Seven Servants right now, but at the very least he was feeling too restless to simply remain stationary. He had gone out to capture some fresh air and take in the scenery. Granted, the scenery of the modern world was unbearably ugly, fit only for the eyes of a pauper, but he approved of this, in a way. One could not appreciate true beauty without also experiencing true hideousness. Exposing himself to this filth helped him to more fully engross himself in the beauty the world still had to offer him, on the rare occasion he found it.

He had not truly been expecting to find it this night, though.

He was nowhere near the battle… such tepid atmosphere did not suit his demeanor. But his ability to sense the flow of power was great, and the eyes of Archer were the eyes of an eagle. Once he found a proper vantage point, it was not so difficult to determine the location of the energies he felt.

Servant Caster was doing battle with Servant Archer and it was all so unbearably tedious that he had to fight down the urge to vomit, until that _disgusting thing_ had the _temerity_ to create a copy of one of _his swords!_ Gilgamesh knew each and _every_ treasure in his vault, in as deep and intense detail as any man could. And so, when this War's Servant Archer called forth Gram, the sword which had passed to Sigurd following Gilgamesh's own death, he had recognized instantly the truth: The sword in the man's hands was a projection.

A _forgery_.

This was, of course, a crime punishable by death, and Gilgamesh had quite literally tensed his muscles to travel to that scene and tear the Faker's liver out through his ears… until he had seen something far, far more important, something that instantly pierced the red haze behind his eyes by filling his entire being with a deep, transcendent joy.

"My Saber…" He purred. "My King of Knights, my perfect, shining treasure... I knew it was you. No copy could be so perfect. Only _my_ Saber. Only mine."

He had almost forgotten, after so long, how breathtaking she was. Even here, cloaked in blood and with darkness closing around her, she was _radiant._ Merely looking upon her made his blood thunder in his veins, his skin tingle with an electric intensity. All other thoughts banished, locked his eyes upon her as she struggled for her life.

She was at her most beautiful when she was being _broken_.

* * *

 

Saber stood ready to cut down her foe, the wind howling around her and the outline of the holy sword growing ever more distinct, when the world collapsed.

She could see down the side road, near where she had left Shirou… the lights were going out. A deep darkness that swallowed the stars was slowly oozing toward her Master, already beginning to lay a pall on her vision. The Shadow had followed them after all, and it was very, very close.

She had to use her Noble Phantasm. But she had only one shot, and there was no way to strike two opponents so far apart. The Shadow was the more dangerous, she was sure of this. And as slow as it was, it would reach the still-helpless Shirou far too soon; she _needed_ to cut it down, and quickly. But…

Lancer smirked, tensing his muscles to jump and hurl the javelin that still burned with unholy energy. "Eyes on the prize, Saber!"

Saber cursed silently. But if she turned from Lancer now, she and Shirou were _both_ dead. She had little choice but to end him, and pray she had sufficient strength left after to deal with the true threat… even as she knew this would not be the case.

 _No… this can't be how it ends…_ She thought softly.

Lancer bent his knees, preparing to leap and let fly his spear…

And something gigantic and black and unspeakably fast and so _strong_ it seemed to make even the aura of corruption from the Shadow shiver slightly just kind of… leapt down on him from right the Hell out of nowhere.

Abandoning his Noble Phantasm, Lancer leapt backwards in an effort to keep his head. The ground where he had been simply exploded on the impact of the whatever-it-was, striking up a cloud of dust and debris that was sent whipping away wildly in the wind released from Saber's blade.

Lancer opened his mouth to snap at the interruption… until he saw exactly what it had been. He smiled, and instead of the angry tirade, simply said, "Oooooooh, yes."

Between him and the (currently just the tiniest bit utterly shocked) Saber, Berserker stood. The single blow he had struck in his first attempt to tear Lancer into bloody meat had torn a trench deep enough to bury a man. Convenient.

Lancer licked his lips and smiled his shark's grin. "Finally, things are looking up. You hit as hard as I remember, big guy?"

" _Misplaced confidence is a turn-off._ " Said a childish, teasing female voice that seemed to come from everywhere. " _As is tearing up other people's property. Hound of Chulann, you've damaged something that belongs to me, and bad dogs get **put down**. Saber! Can your Noble Phantasm deal with that… thing_?"

Saber blinked, still slightly baffled. "I… yes, but…"

" _Then do so. Leave taking out the trash to me,_ " the disembodied voice said. _"It won't take long_."

Lancer's eyes were not visible, but he gave the impression of rolling them regardless. "The threats of a Master who won't even show herself? Don't have that much impact."

" _And taunts from a dead man have even less,_ " Ilya said. _"I'm done chatting. Obliterate him, Berserker."_

Berserker obliged.

Lancer found himself, to his great irritation, on the defensive. Rather than seeking a hole in his defenses, or indeed doing anything tactical, Berserker simply struck at his head with all the force he could bring to bear, and it was a _lot_. Lancer didn't fear pain, but one hit from _that_ would leave him missing the top half of his body. And to make matters worse, Berserker was, in a straight charge, fairly close in speed to Lancer himself. Caught flat-footed, he had little choice but to block.

Someone should have told Berserker he was supposed to be blocked, though.

While the blow didn't utterly pierce through Lancer's defenses, he was knocked off-balance by the sheer force threatening to dislocate his arms. Berserker's second strike came so fast as to be nearly simultaneous to the first, hitting while Lancer was still staggered and physically lifting him off the ground. He tumbled along the ground, rolling helplessly until he could finally twist into position to dig his weapon into the pavement to bring himself to a stop.

Berserker did not let up, of course; he charged in as soon as his second blow had landed, his weapon leading the way. But Lancer was not an idiot; he rolled forward, slipping past the descending axe and between the legs of his much larger opponent. Without even coming to his feet, he spun and slashed behind him, severing both of the giant's Achilles tendons smoothly. Even discounting the loss of support, the sheer _pain_ this caused would have made it a battle-ending injury to basically anyone alive.

Berserker seemed not to notice.

On ruined legs, he spun, swinging the blade down with the force of hurricane. But Lancer was in his element, and his only reaction was a smirk. The giant's angle was bad, his foundation unbalanced. As powerful as the blow was, it was far from perfect. Lancer parried, knocking the strike wide… and slashing his spear across Berserker's face. Gae Bolg cut a jagged swathe across the hideous visage, slicing down to the bone: a cheek was flayed open, the nose nearly severed, an eye simply destroyed.

Berserker seemed not to notice.

With a roar of the same primal fury he had displayed in every exchange, the giant slashed his weapon back across, ignoring his own injuries to strike once more at the enemy. This time Lancer was overextended, and his weapon could not get into place in time to deflect the blow fully, and the axe-sword grazed his shoulder.

The shoulder in question did not _quite_ explode, but it was a close thing. The black armor shattered, and blood gushed forth from flesh that now more closely resembled ground meat than anything attached to a human body. For the second time, Lancer was sent sprawling. He tumbled, agony filling his thoughts and a lunatic giant leaping after him to finish the job and pulp his skull.

It was all he could do not to burst out in exuberant laughter.

" _Not half bad!_ " He crowed, rolling to his feet and charging wholeheartedly back into the fray. There was no holding back, no tactics, he struck with his preferred style: a half-dozen rapid-fire thrusts, each targeting a vital organ. He needed only one arm to wield his spear, and the other was already on the mend… the endless supply of mana his Master provided had some _very_ distinct advantages. If only he could say the same for his offense, however… six strikes landed, but only two drew the blood he'd been hoping to see; Berserker's hide was too strong to be readily penetrated with anything less than his full strength, it seemed. And the giant's own attacks were…

A hurricane blow smashed into his guard, so fast he barely saw it, and once again sent him sprawling. It was _beyond_ obnoxious. The simple fact was that the physics of the situation were against him: Berserker might indeed have been stronger than Lancer, but not by _that_ much, the really damaging factor here was that the Black Giant simply _massed_ so much more than he did. The slightest flaw in the smaller Servant's defense or balance, and he would be tossed like a rag-doll. He was, he began to suspect, in genuine danger of ending up as little more than a smear on Berserker's blade. One mistake, on slip, and he could look forward to a second taste of death.

This time, he _did_ break out laughing, unable to contain the sheer _joy_ this knowledge brought.

"You have _no idea_ how much I've been looking forward to this." Lancer purred, even as Berserker charged.

* * *

 

Despite the battle raging so close to her, Saber did not observe the mad dogs in their frenzy. Berserker had taken Lancer's full attention, and so she focused on matters of greater import. The Servant of the Sword closed her eyes and cleared her mind. Eyes still closed, she turned to face where she knew the approaching Shadow to be merely from the sense of it, and raised her weapon high above her head.

Finally, the wind cleared from the sword in full, and Saber's blade stood revealed.

It was as through the sun had been forged into a broadsword. The gloom which pervaded the street vanished, dispersed by the impossible, brilliant light that poured forth from what was clearly the holiest of blades. The Shadow shrieked and pulled back, seeming to shrink into itself. Lancer's aura of bloodlust paled into insignificance. Even the aura of raw power Berserker manifested seemed… not so much _diminished_ , but merely as though it no longer mattered. It was, as with everything else, simply outshone by the boundless radiance of Saber.

The radiance lit the blackest night, and only grew more brilliant as the power began to gather at Saber's call.

Ilya blinked, her eyes widening. "Oh, my."

Shirou Emiya's eyes opened slightly, stirred by a searing light that seemed to permeate his entire being, right through the skin. He was still, for all intents and purposes, unconscious: he could not move, could barely see, and could certainly not manage anything like a thought. And yet, the image of that sword seemed to bypass his mind entirely and simply sear itself in his soul.

From his vantage point, Gilgamesh smiled and licked his lips. "Yessssssssss…"

Even as the world around her dissolved into chaos, Saber's face was set in a mask of perfect serenity.

This was the moment. Too often, she was weak. She had failed so many times and lost so much. The helpless had looked to her for protection, and she had let them all down. In the end, all she had ever achieved was to live to see all she had created fall apart around her, and all who devoted their lives to her die unfulfilled. She was no true King, no true Knight… just a weak little girl who had never achieved anything, never saved anyone.

But in this moment, bathed in divine light and bearing high the Sword of Promised Victory… _here_ , just for a moment, she could be the legend they all wanted her to be: The King of Knights, chosen by the realm of the fey to wield the ultimate blade as their champion on Earth. The weakness of Arturia melted away, and Arthur Pendragon's eyes opened and gazed upon the Shadow.

There was no pity in them.

With a dancer's grace, one foot slipped lightly back to firm her stance. Her arms, already raised, drew back. The light of the sword built to a peak, becoming impossible to look upon, even for her. She stepped forward, and in a surge of power, swung down the sword even as her dry, cracked lips called forth its holy name.

" ** _Excalibur!_** "

And the darkness burned.


	16. Black and Gold

**It was so cold.**

**So cold, and dark, and empty. All it wanted was to fill that emptiness, why couldn't they understand that? All it wanted was completion, fulfillment, an end to the ceaseless aching hunger that permeated every second of every day. Was that so wrong? Was that so evil? It _suffered_ , it suffered constantly under the weight of pains they could not even begin to imagine. All it wanted was respite from this anguish. To feel, even for a moment, warm, and whole, and loved. **

_Pleaseithurtssomuchmakeitstop..._

**But it must have been evil, because all it met condemned it. They could have submitted, they could have helped, but each one sought only to expand upon the pain, compound the loneliness, leave it gasping and starving in the dark. They all fought, stinging at it like wasps, taunting it like cruel children tormenting a wounded animal. Again and again, the promise of sustenance and relief was offered. Again and again, the attempt to claim that promise was met with pain.**

**But it was relentless, and it was endless, and it would fight through the pain. It was nothing _but_ pain, pain and the instinct to seek relief in any form. Its whole being was agony, and it would not be dissuaded in its efforts to escape that fate. **  
_  
Senpaisenpaihelpmeplease_

**It would fight, and it would endure, and in the end it would devour. Caster had fought. Lancer had fought. They were now a part of it, a small island of sanity in the ocean of madness that was its existence. Their struggles had been futile, and now they were one. The others would be no different. Berserker and Saber-**

_Shirou_

_-_ **were before it, shining with the aura that only the Servants had, the promise of sweet, blessed relief, even if only for a moment before the hunger returned. They would be devoured. They would be consumed. They would become one with the whole, and the loneliness would ebb for a time, and nothing they could do would stop it _._ The darkness moved inexorably forward, and...**

**It burned.**

**It _burned_ , oh God above it burned, the light, the endless immaculate light that stabbed so deep into it, purging uncaring brilliance that shone light on every weakness and every sin and exposed every flaw to the light of day, shattering consuming destroying _BURNING..._**

Sakura Matou woke with a strangled, gurgling scream. She rolled onto her side, retching up blood in between a mixture of sobs and plaintive, childlike wails of simple anguish. There was no thought to it, no reason. Just pain and a desperate, pleading shriek for some sort, any sort of comfort.

Something cool and soft pressed against her, and she threw her arms around it out of simple instinct, incoherently sobbing.

"Shhhhh..." Rider said. She doubted that Sakura was conscious enough to really hear her, but just the sound of her voice seemed to do some good. "It will be okay. This is all just a bad dream."

She continued in that vein, muttering vague reassurances, stroking the girl's hair, and holding her close. It was a waste of mana to manifest like this, and she knew she probably was making things worse for Sakura in the long run by doing it.

But as the girl lapsed back into blessed unconsciousness, soft whimpers still issuing from between her lips as she clung to Rider as though there was nothing else in the world, the Servant was satisfied.

What else could she have done?

* * *

 

Ilya had wanted to look away from the brilliance. She really had.

But who possibly _could_ have?

She had known who Saber really was, of course. Being the Grail had advantages. But knowing such a thing intellectually was different than seeing it for herself, _experiencing_ the gravity of the legend, tasting that unfathomable power on the wind. Especially not for a being like herself, who could sense the true nature of that energy, who could really _see_ what had happened...

Berserker, she knew, could not have destroyed the Shadow. Not with all his tremendous strength and boundless ferocity. He could have ripped into it for hours, and it would not have died. It wasn't a creature for which physical force had any meaning, and her mighty Hercules would have been devoured had he faced it alone.

Yet Saber _had_ faced it alone, and the myth and majesty of Excalibur had left nothing of it. Not even ash remained.

Ilya shuddered. Perhaps she had been a bit too quick in writing the Servant off as worthless.

She began to walk to the scene; she was in no special hurry, now. She had seen Saber fall to her knees in her mind's eye, but Shirou was safe. That was all that mattered.

* * *

 

There had been one other witness to the events of that night, and his opinion could not have been more different than Ilya's.

He cared nothing for the life of Shirou Emiya. He had never had any desire whatsoever to tear his eyes away from the radiance that was Saber's bared power.

And while he did indeed shudder at the display of strength, it was not a shudder of fear.

 _Mine,_ he thought. The only coherent word that would pierce the veil of primal desire that clouded his mind, his face frozen in an expression somewhere between a smile and a stare of longing.

_Mine. Mine, now and forever._

With that simple thought in mind, Gilgamesh began to move.

* * *

 

Lancer growled in annoyance, his gaze cast on the cracked, steaming pavement where the Shadow had used to be. "No. No, no, _no._ This is _not_ how it was supposed to go!"

Saber had fallen to her knees, clinging to the golden sword imbedded in the street for support, her mind no longer able to form coherent enough thoughts to be bothered by Lancer's words. Even Berserker did not move to destroy him, and _that_ annoyed him most of all. He lunged, despite being fully aware the action was futile; his blade and body passed through the black giant as though he was made of mist.

" _Dammit!_ " the insubstantial Servant roared. The Shadow had been his link to the physical world, and without it, his ability to manifest was reduced to almost nil. "This isn't the end. I don't get cheated out of my game, you'll see. Every last one of you is going to die screaming, I _promise_ you that much!"

The man in black faded like fog in the sun, his voice still echoing through the night.

Berserker, his mission as complete as possible, merely stood, silent as a statue. For several long minutes, the only sound was the cracking of superheated pavement cooling in the evening breeze... until the sound of soft, tiny footsteps joined it.

Ilya looked over the situation, and sighed. "Ugh. What a mess," she said, looking at the fallen Servant, and the prone red-haired boy not far from her. "Well, at least you dealt with that. The source will still have to be dealt with, but maybe destroying the projected energy will slow things down and give me time to think."

She turned a baleful gaze toward Saber, who was still futilely trying to struggle to her feet. "You. This is all your _fault._ He wouldn't be involved if it weren't for you. I should just let you fade away. I should have Berserker cut you to _pieces_ , you horrible little..."

"Irisvi...el...?" The Servant muttered, her eyes unfocused and her voice dull.

Ilya's jaw dropped.

This was the same Servant, of course, that her mama and papa had brought into the Castle before they had left her. But it wasn't the _same being._ It shouldn't _know_ that. And it definitely should not have possibly known _that name_.

Why couldn't anything ever just be simple?

"You... you... grrrrrrrrr! You just stay there!" Ilya snapped at the semi-conscious Servant. She was being petulant, she knew it, but she had more important things to worry about right now than oddly knowledgeable ghost puppets. With a huff, she walked over to Shirou and looked at him. Really _looked_.

 _Oh. Oops,_ she thought blankly.

His magic circuits, the first time she'd gazed at them, had been broken, dormant, almost dead. Now they blazed. The paths of mana were not active at the moment, but they were far more sharply defined than the gray haze they had been when she'd kis- erm, when she had transferred some of her own mana into him. And she was a bit worried that was her fault.

 _He was suffering from mana deprivation, so I tried to heal him. Could I have activated some dormant power when I did that?_ she wondered. It certainly wouldn't be the strangest thing she had ever heard; magic was not always predictable. Many things could cause such an awakening, and not all of them were easily foreseen. It was... troublesome. His magic circuits being activated gave him the means to, if he could arrange such, become more deeply involved in the Holy Grail War, which was the opposite of what Ilya wished for him.

 _Well, at least it means this unconsciousness is nothing serious. The shock of the power flowing through newly activated circuits was just too much for him. He'll be fine once he's rested and his body acclimates to the change_ , she thought with some relief. It was about time she got _some_ good news. She smiled softly at the young man, and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

He would be fine. That made up for a lot already.

Her eyes narrowed, her smile vanished, and she turned her gaze upon the blonde girl still struggling to find her legs. "Now. What do I do about _you_?" she asked.

Berserker hefted his weapon and tensed to charge.

"Tempting," Ilya said, "But no. Stand down, Berserker."

The young homunculus walked up to the Servant, and kneeled to look her in the eyes. "You... are confusing thing. You know things you shouldn't, and it annoys me. And as long as you're alive, Shirou will always be a target. I should kill you. I really should. But..." she sighed in annoyance. "Shirou wouldn't like that. It would make him sad, and him being sad makes _me_ sad, and... ugh. Why does making someone happy take so much _work_?!" she snarled.

"I... Iri..." Saber muttered again, clearly struggling to focus her eyes, which then widened in shock. "No, you're not... who are...?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters right now is: Do you want to live, Saber?" Ilya asked. "You need mana. And if you want it, you're going to do _exactly_ as I say."

 _"_ I... I don't..."

"You never saw me. I was never here. You tell Shirou you drove away Lancer on your own, he never knows what happened," Ilya said. "Those are the conditions of this arrangement. You don't like them, you can find another mana source. It doesn't matter much to me. But Shirou wants you to stay, and I'm assuming you want the same?"

"I... I..." Saber said, and even behind the exhaustion, it was clear the emotional turmoil of having to choose between lying to her Master and abandoning him was weighing on her. "... I so... swear."

Ilya sighed. "Honestly, I was sort of hoping you would choose to die, but fine. Here," she leaned forward, brushing one finger across the blade of Excalibur. She winced slightly at the pain, a few bright red drops spilling from her finger. "We'll need to make a temporary contract so I can begin the transfer. Drink."

Saber's disgusted expression showed just what she thought of _that_ plan.

Ilya blushed furiously. "Well, I'm not giving you mana the _other_ way!"

Saber sighed, and allowed the young girl to put the bloodied finger against her lips. Ilya shuddered a bit. It wasn't a case of the mana loss, though she could feel it beginning to flow out into the downed Servant, giving her strength and form. She had a vast pool, enough to support every Servant in the War if she needed to. It was just... well, having a person drink her blood was icky.

What? She was allowed to be human too.

* * *

 

 _"_ She had better be dead," Rin snarled as she walked up to Archer, wringing out her shirt. "Or I am going to deck you."

"I don't think so... she faded, but she regenerates impossibly fast, so until I actually see her corpse, I won't be declaring her beaten..." Archer began. He was cut off by Rin's petite, elegant fist slamming into his jaw. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and finished. "... that was not smart. Did you break your hand?"

Rin rubbed her knuckles balefully. "I don't think so. And it was _worth the pain_."

"Was it? Was it really?"

"... no," Rin admitted sadly as she noticed his jaw didn't even look like it was even _imagining_ a bruise. "Come on. Let's go find Emiya. Maybe we can take out some of this aggression by burning Lancer's head off."

"I don't have any aggression, Master. You're the one with unreasonable atti-"

"I _just_ climbed out of a _pond,_ do not _argue_ with me!" Rin proclaimed, stomping off and leaving a little trail of wet footprints in her wake.

Archer did not laugh at her. Out loud.

* * *

 

Saber stood, rubbing a stray drop of blood from her lips. "I... thank you, Master of Berserker. I doubt I would have faded immediately, but I was indeed very vulnerable."

"I didn't do it for you," Ilya muttered, sucking on her finger to ease the stinging of the tiny cut.

Saber nodded once, sharply. "Shirou. This is twice now that your Servant has intervened on his behalf for no obvious reason. I admit to being somewhat confused by this, until I saw you here. Much now makes sense, but much more is unclear to me."

"How horrible for y-" Ilya began in a mocking tone, only to be cut off by the Servant interjecting into her attempted teasing:

"Such as why a Master of Einzbern is protecting an Emiya Magus, given the bad blood between the families."

Ilya narrowed her eyes at that, and pulled her finger from her mouth with a 'pop'. "And I question why you know the significance of those names. What _are_ you?" she asked. "I know everything about the Holy Grail, and I know that you shouldn't be aware of anything that happened in the previous War. So how...?"

Saber carefully kept a smile from her face; she had not been sure, not completely, that the young girl had been a part of Irisviel's family until that moment. But her reaction to the name of Einzbern left little doubt. Still, she was an unknown factor, and it was best to keep that firmly in mind, no matter what Saber had thought of her late family. "For the moment, we are not enemies... but we cannot be called allies, either. If you are to keep secrets from my Master, then I see no reason to be wholly forthcoming with you."

"... I could give you a reason," Ilya said meaningfully. Berserker tensed.

Saber dropped into a defensive stance, her blade at the ready. "By all means, begin the battle. It will make this situation a good deal simpler for me."

The air was thick with tension. Berserker saw a threat in the vicinity of his Master, and it took every ounce of Ilya's willpower to hold him back from trying to rip it to shreds. Despite Ilya's mind being fully bent to holding him back, the Black Giant's muscles were tensed for battle, and bloodlust rolled off him in waves.

Saber showed no fear despite the palpable aura of malice, the wind gathering around her sword whipping into a tempest.

Ilya sighed. "Fine, fine. You're not easily intimidated. Not sure why I even bothered," she waved dismissively. "For now, I will let you off light. Keep your word, and we have no quarrel... for now."

Saber sighed deeply, and released her blade to the ether, glad indeed for the chance to avoid a battle. She was well-supplied with Mana again, but the supply was still limited and she firmly suspected that to defeat Berserker, she would again need to draw upon her Noble Phantasm. Regaining her lost strength would serve little purpose if she lost it again immediately after. "Indeed. For the moment, a great darkness has been vanquished, and..."

"It's not dead."

Saber's eyes widened. "I know my blade like no other. _Nothing_ that faces it in such a way could have survived," she said flatly, her voice one of just slightly adorable offended pride. Had Shirou been conscious, he probably would have been blushing.

"And it was definitely impressive," Ilya admitted. "Even my Berserker might have had trouble killing you."

"... thank you...?"

"But the problem is, that wasn't the creature. At least, that wasn't its core. It was... kind of like a projected curse. An extension of the main source. You might have destroyed the puppet, but the central... 'source' can always make another one. It might take it some time, but the threat isn't destroyed. At least, not yet..."

Saber's eyes narrowed. "How do you know this?"

Ilya pondered her options.

_I could tell her. If Saber knew about the Makiri parasite in her Master's home, she would be obligated to defend him. Maybe even destroy the source of the Dark Grail. No matter how powerful it is, that Noble Phantasm could definitely destroy it._

_And then Shirou's close friend would die, and he would be devastated, and..._

"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Ilya screamed. "Why is being good so hard?!"

"... excuse me?"

"Grrr, nothing! It doesn't matter, you don't need to know," Ilya snapped.

"If you want my aid in dealing with this creature, holding back information is senseless," Saber pointed out.

"Okay," Ilya growled. "In that case, why don't you tell me something: How did _you_ know the name 'Irisviel'? How did you know _anything_ about the last War when your Master doesn't?!"

Saber sighed, and opened her mouth to admit defeat... when someone beat her to it.

"Because she was there for the War in person, of course. Because she's special. Unique. _Precious_ ," said a painfully familiar voice. "It's just one more reason why she belongs to me."

It wasn't entirely unlike when the Shadow had attacked, though also not entirely similar. As before the aura of sheer, cloying negativity was so thick that it felt almost hard to breathe in its presence, as though the air had somehow become thick, poisonous mist. But there were two key differences.

First, the power exuded by the Shadow, while bearing a palpable aura of malice, had also borne the unmistakable tinge of sadness. The desperate hunger and clear intent to kill were obvious, but just as striking was the sense of pain and loneliness, as though the creature itself were in unspeakable agony even as it destroyed all in its path.

In contrast, the aura shining through the night now was far brighter, and yet somehow even more vile; no sense whatsoever of any quality other than pride, and possessiveness, and terrible, scathing contempt.

Second, and more worrisome... the aura seemed to also be far more powerful.

The two women's eyes were drawn to the top of a broken streetlight, where a golden figure who seemed to shine with an inner light even through the darkness descended.

Saber's eyes widened in something between surprise and horror.

"Hello, Saber," Gilgamesh said. "I had meant to collect you later, but... I found I simply couldn't wait."

* * *

 

It was darker, elsewhere.

She was a woman of no consequence. She had been out with friends, refusing to allow rumors of gas leaks and killers to prevent her from living her life.

This was irony.

She walked home, dazed and admittedly somewhat drunk. While she had at least been sober enough to realize she shouldn't be driving, she was starting to regret her choice to walk just as much; a few yen for a taxi might have been a wise choice, although her home was easily in walking distance. The street lights were not lit, the night seemed so much darker than it should have, and for no reason she could determine, she simply _felt_ like she was being watched with each and every step she took into that swirling blackness.

Something fell upon her from the trees overhead; something damp, and heavy, and slick to the touch. She screamed in understandable shock, but not nearly as loud a scream as she released when she felt tiny, sharp fangs from the slimy mass dig into her neck. She ripped it from her skin and threw it aside, but by then a second creature had fallen and latched onto her arm, biting furiously. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth, so many she lost count. Dozens of razors latched into her body, digging into her, slick, pale flesh vanishing into her body. Her ankles were cut from under her, and she fell onto a swarm of the gaping maws, hundreds of them, a carpet of the vile, writhing forms rushing over her and into her. A sensation like being buried in thousands of hungering knives...

The pain was beyond comprehension... or perhaps it was simply that her mind could not register her situation with enough clarity to fully express the agony any longer. This was not how life was supposed to be. This was not supposed to _happen_. She was a woman of no consequence, but she had been alive. She had loved and been loved. She had built a life for herself, and she had been content.

This was not how she was supposed to die.

For a time, the only sound was the crunching of bone, and the writhing of worms atop a buried female form that rapidly grew still. When silence finally fell, it was broken in the end by an old man's groan of discomfort as he rose painfully to his feet.

"Aaaaaaaaaah..." Zouken Matou gasped. "A good body, but it only grows harder as the years go on. Particularly when the change was unplanned like this..."

Ordinarily, he preferred to wait for at least a night, often many days, months, even occasionally years lying dormant with his mind divided among the swarm and recuperating, before claiming a new body. But events were unfolding unpleasantly. He was increasingly forced to step up his plans, and he could not afford to take the time to rest any longer. There would be time for respite when his plans were back on track.

"Interesting," said a voice like the rasp of wind through a dead tree. "So your previous body was not your own either?"

Zouken opened his new eyes and sought through the thin tree line. After a few moments, the white skull mask faded into view as Assassin allowed himself to be seen.

"Ah," the old Magus said. "You're a bit late."

"I assumed you did not wish to be seen with me. This was why you sought this meeting in the dead of night, far from prying eyes, was it not? You seek to preserve your anonymity as a Master."

"Hmmmmph. In the future, put more value on my physical well-being. This was an unpleasant experience."

"I was nervous, for a moment," Assassin admitted. "When Lancer slew you, I had thought I would need to seek a new Master. But you have some... unique traits, I see."

"Indeed. My true body died many years ago... I am reduced to this, a parasite who steals the bodies of others in order to survive," Zouken chuckled. "A twisted existence, I'm sure."

"Worms in the shape of a man. Even now I can see the places they have taken on the shape of organs, mimicking flesh to shape you... but then, is it any less twisted than myself? Perhaps we were indeed meant to work together, then," Assassin said mildly, the skull mask flitting from branch to branch seemingly without purpose.

"So chatty. Your mind has stabilized, then?"

"Indeed. I have regained my memories and my wish with the flesh of a killer's heart. The Assassin walks in the shadows, and seeks the path to eternity," said the dry, lifeless voice. "But then, I also find myself confused. I could not be summoned save by one who shares my goal, and also walks the path to immortality. Yet you seem to have already found the this long-sought prize...?"

Zouken's chuckle was laced with irritation. "Do not mistake this for immortality. Though the years do not claim my life, the pain that time heaps upon me in exchange is beyond your imagination. I _rot,_ Assassin, rot even as I stand. Already, this new body has begun the long, slow decay. In a few weeks at the most, it will be useless, the worms unable to hold me into this form. I will have to seek new flesh, and the agony will begin anew as soon as I claim it. This is not immortality. This is endless suffering."

"Why not take a new form, then? Why remain in the body of an old man, no matter how many lives you consume?"

"Because I can _take_ no other form," the old man hissed.

"... ah. Ah-ha," the white skull murmured. "Then your soul is the issue. That is the secret. Each new body takes on the shape of the soul, and the soul..."

"Is _rotten_ ," Zouken growled. "Time affects even ethereal bodies eventually. This soul rots, and any vessel that it inhabits will rot just the same. Do you understand now, Old Man of the Mountain? Do you see why I can still dream of endless life? This pain... it is beyond my ability to hold for all time. It _must_ be cleansed from my soul. The endless torment... I hate myself for having it, I hate the world for allowing it, I hate all living humans for their freedom to live without it, I hate everything that moves in this world or any other! The Holy Grail will be my freedom, Assassin! There _is no higher purpose for it!"_

Assassin listened to the old man spew his venom without comment, but his mind reached the conclusion quickly enough.

 _Ah. My Master, then, is already insane_ , he thought. It was the logical conclusion... to blame the world for a pain that was entirely his own fault, yet cling to life despite it all? Zouken Matou's mind was clearly unhinged, driven past the point of reason or empathy by the sheer agony of his existence, endless suffering stretched on for centuries.

"I suppose it cannot be understood by me, but the truth of it is simple enough to grasp," Assassin said. "While our circumstances are different, both of us have lived as inhuman monsters, Zouken Matou. And while you may your reasoning may be unique, it is a simple goal that you seek...

"You don't want to die. To live forever, no matter the cost," Assassin said. "That alone makes you the perfect choice to be my Master. Set the path, Master of Matou. Assassin, the Servant of the Shadows, will drive a dagger deep into the back of any who seeks to bar your way."

The old Master smiled.

* * *

 

The air he stood in was simultaneously brightened by his inarguable brilliance, and tainted by the sheer malice that poured off him in waves.

Those crimson eyes ran up and down Saber's body, drinking in every curve of steel and frill of fabric, absorbing every detail of her face and form. "Fantastic," he breathed. "Just as stunning as I recall. Tell me, Saber, do you remember my proposal from the last War? Will you walk with me willingly, or shall I force it from you? I have no problem with either, though I could be more gentle if you took the former."

"A...Archer..." Saber breathed.

"What?!" Ilya snapped. "That isn't Archer! I... that's not...!"

It was impossible. She was the Holy Grail, and there could be no Servant that she did not know. More to the point, she had seen this War's Archer already, and the being who stood before her was _not_ him. That Archer was... sad, but warm. Ilya had no particular hatred of him. This one...

The gaze he cast upon the scene was one that suggested that as far as he was concerned, Saber was the only living thing in his field of vision. Everything else was worthless, valueless, no more important than empty air. Ilya was a noble herself, and she knew she could manage some _very_ high quality arrogance. But even she wasn't able to just look through people she didn't even know like they didn't exist.

It took a very specific kind of mind to re-write its own perception of reality for no purpose other than to make someone else feel inferior.

The Golden Knight turned his gaze upon Ilya, and his expression shifted to one of disinterest and disgust, such soul-deep contempt that Ilya almost pined to be ignored again. "You were not given permission to speak," he said, and gestured vaguely.

Something screamed through the air with a sound like a swarm of furious wasps, followed by a blur in front of her, and the shrieking of metal-on-metal.

It took Ilya a moment to realize what had happened. The golden Servant ( _Not a Servant, he can't be a Servant, that's impossible... but what else could he be..._ ) had attacked her, struck to kill a complete stranger with as much empathy as a more ordinary man would show in the squashing of a fly. Berserker had, of course, leapt in front of her, seeking to block the strike with his own body, defending her the only way he could.

And Saber, in turn, had leapt to defend _him_ , her venerable blade batting aside the ancient sword the Archer had fired at the young homunculus, sending it wheeling off to impact on the pavement with the force of a small bomb.

"W... what...?" Ilya gasped.

Saber turned a small smile back on her. "Perhaps Shirou is influencing me oddly, to defend a potential foe so. Or perhaps I am still simply curious as to what you know about the oddities in this War. But this Archer is no ally of mine, Lady Einzbern, and I do owe you a debt of assistance. If you stand against him, then I stand with you."

Ilya just blinked. Perhaps there were some side benefits to this whole 'doing good' thing after all.


	17. Hail to the King

The Archer in gold looked at his discarded blade with an expression somewhere between confusion and mild curiosity.

He tilted his head to the left, then to the right, looking at the sword as though it were the only thing in the world. He ignored not only Saber, but the far more noticeable Berserker, who was clearly struggling with the urge to rip through the small woman to get to the gold-armored man, with only Ilya's confused will keeping him from doing so.

This lasted for several seconds, before he spoke. "Saber... does this mean you are choosing to stand in defiance of me?"

"Of course. My answer to your proposal has not changed since our last meeting, Archer," Saber said firmly. "Even if we were not enemies, I could hardly stand such an insult to my pride."

The Golden Archer threw back his head and released a full-throated laugh. "Yes! Yes, that's good! The defiance in your eyes is just like I remember it, Saber! That's the spirit I demand from the woman I've chosen as my perfect bride!"

"B-bride?!" Ilya squeaked, not entirely sure she understood what was going on here. "Saber, is he your ex-boyfriend...?"

" _W-what?!_ Master of Berserker, please refrain from saying such distasteful things! He is nothing more than an overly aggressive lout who attempted to force himself onto me and was _soundly_ rebuffed!" Saber snapped, her composure visibly giving way to irritation.

"Hmmmmph! You say it like it was bad, but the fact is that you should be honored, King of Knights," The armored man said with the most insolent smirk Ilya thought she had ever seen. "To be chosen by me is a great privilege. Only the most rare and precious of treasures are enough to catch my eye, and I chose you above all women to sit at my feet. Surely you can see the significance of this? It means that above any of the priceless treasures in my vault, _you_ would be my greatest possession. Any bauble you wished would be yours, any decree you wished to hear from the king's lips would be written into the world's law inexorably. All in return for nothing more than your undying devotion. Many women would slaughter their own families for such an honor... and I say that from direct experience."

Saber shuddered. "You... I cannot comprehend you, Archer. That you could honestly think that any king could so abandon their pride, and swear fealty beneath a heartless animal like you is beyond the pale."

"Heartless?" the Golden Archer asked, his smirk only growing. "Why, my dear, I can only _make_ such an offer because I love you so deeply. To offer you anything at all is antithesis to me, but any price is worthwhile to have you kneeling before me in adoration, my Saber."

Ilya frowned. "That's... wrong."

The armored man tilted his head to one side, his smile fading. "I'm sorry? Did the meat puppet forget that it does not have permission to speak?"

"That's _wrong,"_ Ilya snarled once again, her crimson eyes locking with the contemptuous stranger's. "If... you love someone, than... then doing anything that makes them sad should make _you_ sad. And making them happy makes you happy. You... if you have to force them to love you back than it's just... it isn't _right_. They should love you because they love you!"

Saber turned to look the young girl in the face, a warm smile on her face. "Well-spoken, Lady Einzbern. Perhaps choosing to fight by your side was a better decision than I had imagined."

The gold-armored man, in contrast, merely looked annoyed. "Well. I suspected it would come to this, so I guess I shouldn't be terribly shocked. Very well, Saber... if you once again refuse my generous proposal, I suppose we will have to do this the hard way."

As he spoke the air behind him began to shimmer, and they emerged: swords, spears, axes, scythes, daggers, hammers, weapons of all shapes and sizes. Each one making the air around it hum with raw magical power, each one obviously priceless, and each...

"Noble Phantasms..." Ilya's eyes widened. There was no denying it. Each blade was an authentic Noble Phantasm. Her first thought... her fervent _hope..._ had been that the enemy had some power that allowed him to create a false weapon in the image of a Noble Phantasm. That she could have understood. That might have been possible. But there was no denying it: each and every one of the many, _many_ weapons appearing in the air behind the man practically _burned_ with the aura of power and reverent dignity that only a true Noble Phantasm possessed.

_But there's dozens! No one Servant could have so many, could they...?_

"I'm afraid that the legendary King of Knights fighting alongside a fellow demigod will not be something I can treat gently. Yes, even I! I would apologize, but it _is_ your own fault that I'm forced to be a bit rough with you here, Saber. I will try not to kill you by accident," he said, with a bit more cheer than the words suggested he should have.

"Your words are not reassuring," Saber murmured.

"They should be! Do believe that if I am forced to destroy you, I will regret it deeply for years to come. It would be like... like blinding a great artist, cutting the tongue from the mouth of a star soprano! Destroying a true work of _art._ Do you know how that would pain me?" Gilgamesh purred. "But you've left me little choice. You will not come willingly, so I'm afraid I have few options left. So how does this sound? Berserker can die, and your Master too. Then, I will force you to contract with the child, and bring her back to my home for safekeeping to ensure your obedience until the War is complete. Her mana will make you your old self, give you the power to win the War easily, and you _will_ win. But first..."

"Well, I will grind your holy sword down to dust, shatter your armor, and drag you into my dominion kicking and screaming. Crush that defiance from your eyes and make you into a pliant slave, to go forth and crush the other Servants at my behest. Oh, I know it sounds a bit cruel, but after all... I can hardly leave a treasure like you alone."

And the swords began to fly.

* * *

 

"Oh, Hell," Archer murmured, the sound of impacts beginning to ring through the town.

"What is that?" Rin muttered. "It sounds like someone is dropping bombs, or..."

"Worse. We have to hurry. That Shadow drains the life from everything around it, and as long as it was active people will sleep through pretty much anything," Archer snapped. "But it's gone now, and it's only a matter of time before someone starts noticing that sound. And anyone who gets close to that battle is going to die."

Rin's eyes narrowed. _He's keeping things from me again. He knows what's going on more than he'll say, and he won't tell me, and it might very well get us both killed._

_And dammit all, I'm running right after him anyway._

Not for the first time and not for the last, Rin questioned her own sanity. But... she also kept right on running.

* * *

 

Each blade tore through the air, leaving a contrail of golden light that burned bright against Ilya's vision and impacted with the force of a small bomb. Not merely a few blades, either; they came three or four at a time, and the rain did not slow noticeably between salvos

Which made the defense Saber showed all the more impressive.

Berserker was, in the face of the storm of light, little more than a giant target. He was not _capable_ of defense beyond the occasional just plain smashing an attack aside away from himself, which he rarely bothered to do, and frankly _couldn't_ have done today. The hail of missiles came down on him too fast, and the blades too numerous. Even mighty Berserker would have been cut to ribbons, his only hope to charge the foe down and hope he could reach it before the endless storm of Noble Phantasms shaved away every life he had.

But Saber could do otherwise.

Excalibur darted across the girl's body like lightning, the bared glory of the golden blade batting aside the weapons as they rained down in their dozens. Her speed and focus were both far sharper than they had been during the fight with Lancer; the influx of mana from Ilya coming with some obvious benefits. The holy sword seemed to be in a dozen places at once, striking aside the barrage of blades with a shower of brilliant sparks and the shriek of metal on metal. The blades rained down on her, and yet she not only batted aside each one to send it impacting on the ground, but managed to make headway in her charge toward the Golden Archer as well, the hail of blades not slowing her in the slightest.

And the Black Giant followed in her footsteps.

_It had tried to harm his Master. It would die._

_This was the closest to a thought Berserker could have. The only thing that it could even come close to believing. The 'mind' of Berserker was an empty program, a red haze that could not truly hold any concept save violence, the mindless obliteration of any foe that stood before it. But piercing that haze now was something that came from outside that programmed, inhuman violence that could not even truly be called rage._

_It had tried to harm his Master, and it would die._

_Ever since the first sword had flown, every atom of Berserker's being had longed to roar into battle and tear the attacker limb from bloody limb, smash away at the remains until nothing was left but a bloody smear on the axe-sword. He did not fear the blades of his enemy, did not fear the agony they could inflict, though even he could sense each one was a deadly threat. He could not fear them; to feel fear, he would have had to value his own existence, and he was not capable of such. Only the commands of his Master held any sway over his urge to destroy, and she had held him back for the moment. It was as simple as that._

_She held him back no longer._

_Berserker charged at the enemy, and Saber charged before him. Blades that could have pierced even his skin were batted aside as Saber's blade struck them from the air with speed even he had difficulty perceiving._

_It was only the will of his Master that he did not cut the tiny thing in half while her back was turned, clearing the path to the true enemy. Finally, though, he could wait no longer. The killing haze filled his senses, overcame all else, and Berserker leapt. The enemy was close, now, too close to-_

_Pain._

_There was pain, as the enemy gestured and half a dozen streaks of light slammed against the giant's chest and legs, piercing the bronze flesh, his own weapon smashed aside a spear, sending it crashing aside in splinters, but more came. Kidneys, liver, lungs, quadriceps, and finally heart were all pierced by ancient blades, the airborne giant's body shredded in the space of an instant._

_Berserker died._

_This did not slow it down._

_The leaping strike was not slowed in the slightest. A heart pierced by a greatsword continued to pump blood, lungs shredded by spears continued to draw breath. Sustained through death now by the Noble Phantasm of the Heroic Spirit Hercules. Godhand. For each of his legendary Twelve Labors, he was granted now a new life by the gods. Even now, unknowing and mindless, this divine protection remained._

_Berserker brought his blade down on the enemy's head, a blow that could not fail to destroy even a Servant. The streetlight he stood on was crumpled by the shockwave alone, the pavement cracked... but the enemy did not die, as the stone blade crashed harmlessly into empty air that nonetheless resisted its encroachment far more sturdily than steel ever could have. There was a cracking in the air as the invisible shield bent under Berserker's power, but it did not break, and the black giant was now off-balance, caught in the air._

_The light-wreathed blades struck home once again, each impacting with the force of a missile, sending Berserker flying backwards, her great form tearing a furrow in the solid pavement as yet more of the ancient weapons pierced his body, and finally an ancient war-axe pierced his neck, nearly tearing the head from his shoulders..._

_Berserker died._

_He ignored this, and rose to his feet, roaring his defiance._

_The black giant charged into the storm of oncoming blades, unable to take any other action, unable to do anything save leap at the foe, to rip it to pieces no matter the cost to himself..._

And Saber leapt in front of him, her holy sword cutting contrails in the air as she slashed aside the weapons one after another, her blade seeming more like a solid wall of metal than a single sword. Ancient blades of power and majesty struck at her, and were batted aside like so much scrap metal by the Sword of Promised Victory.

The golden Archer threw back his head and laughed. "Yes! Yes, this is what I expected! A hundred blades and you both still live! Show me more, combine your might, strike against me with all your power! This is what I wanted to _see! Show me everything you have, Saber!_ "

He gestured, and the weapons behind him in the air multiplied in number five, ten times over. Dozens became hundreds, each one of them lighting the night with the aura of their power. There was no question: even Saber could not repel so many. When they launched, they would be a cage of flying metal piercing the two Servants from all directions. The land on which they stood would be annihilated for certain.

"It makes it all the more satisfying," he purred. "When you fail."

* * *

 

Zouken walked home, enjoying the feel of his new form. It was already rotting, of course, already in pain, but not to the degree the last one had. It was the closest to relief he was able to feel, and he took what enjoyment he could from it.

"Oh my," he said with a dry chuckle, listening to the distant impacts. "It appears some youngsters are getting up to a spirited debate. How nice."

Assassin, little more than a shadow on the breeze, did not share the amusement. "Servants. Three, and between them such power I can barely comprehend it. I believe even your odd abomination was destroyed by the bared power released..."

Zouken smirked. "Perhaps the extended power was briefly dispersed, but the source is quite safe. Though... yes. Not as safe as I think it could be. Things _are_ progressing somewhat beyond my control, and I should take a slightly firmer hand with them, don't you think?"

"I rarely choose the direct approach, but in this case, it may be justified," Assassin admitted. "Caster is... alarming. I am not the only one who noticed that, I assume."

"No, not at all," Zouken agreed. "That one needs to be brought to heel, and soon, before she ruins plans I have spent the last decade readying. And yet, outright destroying her might well be beyond our abilities at the moment. Vexing indeed. Well, I suppose we have no particular choice in the matter... we will have to bring her under my power. There is little else to be done."

"... she did not seem the type to take orders, Master," Assassin said diplomatically.

"Indeed not," Zouken said with a small smile, "but it is not something you need worry overmuch about just yet. I have given the matter some thought, and I believe that with the proper precautions, her personal choices will matter not at all."

"You have some means of controlling Caster and Lancer? But they have become little more than extensions of the darkness. Do you possess some kind of spell of control worked into fabric of the Shadow creature? A compulsion brought on by the Holy Grail?" Assassin wondered. "But... no, if you had such a method, you would have used it before now."

Zouken chuckled. "Indeed, and that is why the method in question is nothing so blunt as a spell of command. I have lived long, Assassin, and have learned much of the nature of humans, spirit or otherwise. After this time, I could hardly have failed to learn the most important lesson of them all: with sufficient leverage, humans can be persuaded to do _many_ things that are against their nature. And I believe I have the leverage in question, oh, yes."

"Do you have any particular plan to share the nature of this 'leverage', my Master, or am I to fight on in blissful ignorance?" Assassin asked dryly.

Zouken's chuckle was, if possible, even dryer. "It will become apparent shortly. For the moment, Assassin, I have a task for you. To be completed before the night is done... no, before the battle we hear is completed, if possible."

Assassin was silent for a brief moment, and Zouken could not help but muse how well Assassin was able to get across his emotions without a face. The confusion was palpable.

"It is not as though I need the time to rest, of course, but before the conflict is completed? If you are choosing to send me into direct conflict with those... monsters, I must remind you that the skills of Assassin lie in stealth and deception," Assassin said, finally. "I would be able to accomplish little save my own obliteration by becoming involved in that manner of conflict."

Zouken chuckled softly. "No, no. Nothing so overt as that. I will just need you to make a short trip to a local home, and procure a certain unique item for me.

"And with it... leverage."

* * *

 

Saber had been in enough battles to realize this one was going poorly.

The problem was Berserker. For all his power and speed, he was _not_ a good teammate to have, solely because he seemed almost incapable of actually acting as a teammate. The core of battling in a group was combining the skill and power of the combatants to form a superior whole. All members of the team had to support the others, aiding their allies in both offense and defense, enabling them to advance as a unit and repel counterattacks more effectively. But Berserker, by his very nature, was not capable of such. He saw an enemy and he crushed it, as simple as that, without the slightest regard for whether or not this was the best tactic. He rushed headlong into lethal attacks, deeply impairing Saber's ability to repel attacks from him, and in general made no effort to fight by her side in any way.

Honestly, she wondered if perhaps she might have been better off in some ways if she simply allowed him to be destroyed and used that as cover for her own attacks. The mana she had gained from the young Einzbern girl was substantial, but not limitless, and she did not wish to use her Noble Phantasm again unless she had no choice. But this Archer... his power was such that already, that last resort began to become tempting. It was just as it had been in the last War; he did not fight with any special skill, but the storm of blades struck down without end, making any advance against him a suicidal prospect. If she wanted to get close enough to cut him down without utilizing Excalibur's full power for the second time in a single night, she would either to identify his true Noble Phantasm and derive his weakness as a Heroic Spirit, or somehow abate the assault against her and allow her to go on the offensive. Berserker could do the latter by his death.

It was the logical choice. But a knight did not abandon her comrades. Ever. Berserker may have indeed been far from an ideal comrade, but his Master had saved her life, and by extension Shirou's. For as long as she did not turn against them, Saber's blade would defend her. It was as simple as that.

If she could not use the most logical tactic, then, she would have to settle for unorthodox. Her comrade was unable to fight on anything but base instinct; so she would have to meld her own tactics to suit his. And he did have certain advantages, as well. More specifically, his power, durability, and speed were unmatched. Any other Servant would have already been destroyed by the wounds he had sustained and with a single blow, he had already cracked Archer's shield, a defense she knew from experience was formidable indeed. If she could clear him a path and give him the chance to land a true attack with his feet firmly planted, she had little doubt that he could destroy any enemy with a single blow.

And if he could not give himself the chance to land that blow, she would do so.

Rather than try to launch a stationary defense, she poured prana into her legs, the air around her exploding with wind from the sudden release of power. She charged, the speed from the prana burst letting her keep just barely ahead of Berserker's own lunge, so near she could feel the beast's breath on her back, feel the vibration from his footsteps. And as she charged, she cut down the storm of blades.

It wasn't a good plan. To charge while maintaining a solid defense _and_ channeling prana to strengthen her limbs was a tactic that strained even her swordsmanship skills and combat instincts; even as she moved, death in front of her and an ally who was willing to run her down behind her, she could feel the effectiveness of her defenses slipping. A sword slipped past, grazing her cheek. Another struck the armor on her left arm, and she felt the limb go numb. She drew in her guard, sacrificing the defense of her midsection to maintain defense of her limbs; she could trust her armor to give her heart some protection, but if her legs were damaged she would die here, that much was certain.

"HA! Saber, are you trying to die in defense of a mad dog? Such a pointless sacrifice is so adorably _like_ you, my treasure," Archer purred. "Well, let's make things harder on you, then."

The blades in the air behind him multiplied in number yet again, the light of the portals lighting the night so brilliantly is was like the sun had risen. The storm of swords became so intense it was more like a solid wall of metal pressing against her guard, and yet Berserker insured she could _not_ slow down...

Until, with a shrieking of metal on metal, the pressure on her arms and searing pain in her body suddenly ceased, replaced with a shockwave that buffeted her, sending her hair and skirt rustling madly.

The sudden absence of resistance was so shocking that she nearly stumbled, failing her charge right then and there, before managing to right herself with little more than a slight misstep (and thankfully so, because Berserker would likely have stomped on her otherwise) and continuing the charge. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the cause.

Arrows...or were they swords? She couldn't tell, they moved too fast and impacted against the golden Archer's blades with too much force to see them clearly, but they numbered in the hundreds, each one moving at bullet-speed and knocking aside a Noble Phantasm.

"You...!" the man in gold snarled, his face taking on his first expression that was not either smug supremacy or absolute disinterest: sheer, simple, _loathing._

"Yes, me," Archer said, his own face set in a _very_ smug expression, his bow in his hands, and the air around him shining with silver swords that flashed out to meet the gold blades head-on. _"Saber, take him!"_

Saber did not need to be told twice.

With cover fire taking the pressure off her, Saber's charge redoubled, bringing her weapon in low, even as Berserker slashed down from above; she could see a lance driven completely through his weapon hand, but this seemed to affect the power of the blow not at all. Excalibur struck something invisible and yet harder than any iron shield she had ever cut through in a lifetime of battles. The golden blade struck up sparks off of seemingly empty air, then dug into the solid nothingness, cracks appearing in the thin air...

Until Berserker's blow landed, and the divine shield shattered like glass under the combined might of the two most deadly close-combat Servants. The gold-armored Servant reacted with inhuman speed, pulling a sword from the air behind him, but he was not nearly fast enough...

Golden armor shattered, and the servant wearing it was sent sprawling, leaving a trail of blood on the pavement behind him.

His left hand followed shortly behind him.

"Dammit... _damn you all..._ " the golden servant snarled, his face contorted almost beyond recognition with fury, blood flowing freely from the stump of his left hand. The blade he had pulled from the air was still clutched in his right hand, and this made Saber very, very worried.

It had been Excalibur that had cut the hand from the man's body, slicing through even the magnificent gold armor. Saber's blade had been bared and perfected, and struck at a seam between the gauntlet and bracer to disarm in the most literal sense. Berserker's blade, however had been aimed directly at his head with enough force to reduce his entire body to paste...

And the eerie red-and-black sword in his hand had repelled that blow with no visible effort.

It was a strange weapon by any standards. The blade was a long, black cylinder covered in red cuneiform, with both the tip and the grip and handguard wrought from gold, but what caught Saber's attention most about it was not this, nor even the fact that the 'blade' was in fact nothing of the sort, being completely blunt as far as she could tell. What caught Saber's attention was... was...

She was afraid. The sword, for no reason she could determine, ignited in her warrior's soul just the tiniest spark of genuine, primal fear.

There was no such thing as a battle without fear, of course. Any warrior who went into conflict would feel that spike of fear for their existence upon meeting the enemy and recognizing that their life might end this day. But that was a soft fear, a fear that had a definite cause and a purpose. That was a fear that could be resisted, controlled, contained and extinguished. A primal fear, though, one that struck at her not as a King but as a human girl, fear that had no obvious cause, left nothing for her to fight back against. It was something she had not felt in many, many years, something she had thought long extinguished in her, and yet just looking upon that blade, all her instincts screamed that she should have started running long before now.

The sensation was not made better when glanced at her pseudo-partner, and saw, with wide eyes, that despite having no mind to feel fear with... he had similarly frozen.

And more telling, that the axe-sword he wielded now had a visible crack along its entire length from merely impacting the bizarre blade.

_But... it isn't even sharp, how could it have..._

"You... _you...!_ " he snarled, and the strangely shaped weapon in his hands began to spin, of all things. The middle segment rotated counter to the other two, each of them releasing a keening, shrieking wail far out of proportion with the blade's size. The sword took on a crimson glow that hurt Saber's eyes, and drew in the wind to form a violent vortex. "You are not worthy to see this! Animals! Mongrels! Waking Ea in the presence of such trash _profanes_ it!

" _But there is no other fitting punishment. There is no other end I can bestow upon you to grant you the suffering you deserve. You will be drawn to Hell by the sword of the king, and there is no escape for you."_

_Oh, Hell,_ Archer thought. "Rho Aias!" he shouted, projecting his most powerful tool for defense; the shield of the legendary Ajax, a conceptual weapon that could repel any projectile. He cast the shield not in front of himself, but in front of Saber, Berserker, and Ilya, the ones directly in the line of fire, and simultaneously released his remaining projected sword-arrows, hoping to give him some too many targets to focus on.

" _Berserker, hur-_ " Ilya began to scream, the sound of Archer's shout shocking her out of her own trance. She, perhaps more than anyone, could sense the power building, and that it needed to be stopped, before...

Too late.

" ** _Enuma Elish._** "

It was not the greatest power Ea could draw upon, of course. Indeed, the blast released was barely charged, a spark against the blade's infinite inferno. And yet...

Rho Aias shattered, the petals of the flower-shaped shield blown apart by the vortex of scarlet energy released by the Ea. Whether it actually did any good in repelling the attack or not, Archer couldn't say; his mind exploded in white agony from the act of the shield's mana being forcibly obliterated, leaving him in no position to analyze the reaction.

It did do some good. The bolt of energy released from Ea had been charged and fired in the space of a second, and was thus less than a single percent of the sword's maximum output. Had the shield not been there to de-fang it, this would still have been enough to kill Saber, Berserker, and quite possibly the two humans behind them as well. Instead, the blast struck the shield head-on, and exploded.

Big time.

Well, in truth, it was less like an explosion than it was a _storm_ ; a crushing wave of heat and power that rolled over the field in all directions. The targets were scattered, the incoming arrows cut from the sky, and even the massive Berserker could not stand fast in the face of the swirling vortex of power. Not that even he was trying.

_Ilya was endangered._

If Berserker's mind was an inferno that could hold nothing but thoughts of violence, then Ilya's existence being endangered was the ocean that could quench even that endless flame. He abandoned his attack against the target and turned with the shockwave of the attack, ignoring the burning energy against his skin, to put his body between Ilya and the blast.

Saber would have done the same for Shirou. She really would have. However, she did not have skin the consistency of iron or several hundred pounds of muscles to give her stability in the blast. Her armor protected her decently, once she got a gauntlet across her face, but she was a small girl, and once her feet left the ground she was limited in her options. She tumbled, the top lair of her armor cracking under the strain, until finally she was able to twist into a position to jam her sword into the ground and screech to a halt, the blade slicing through the soil almost too smoothly to be of use in slowing her, but as the blast faded she was able to get her feet on the ground and dig in her heels, smoke rising from the scorched surface of her armor. "Shirou! He..."

Rin Tohsaka stood over her master, the broken dust that might have once been a gemstone falling from scorched, numb fingers. "That... that... grrrrr, why did I ever think this war was a good idea?!" she snarled to nobody in particular. "And which one is _that?!_ I've already met Caster, Lancer, and Assassin, and he sure as shit isn't riding anything..."

"Can't you tell, Rin?" Archer said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. Gilgamesh had been partially caught in his own blast, thankfully, but he was still on his feet, and the wind still shifted gently around that damn sword, the one weapon he had never been able to copy...

He turned his gaze from Ea before his inability to comprehend the thing's structure could ignite the static it had always created in his brain, and said to Rin, "That's Servant Archer."

"As usual, you're not funny."

"As usual, I'm not joking when the truth is more likely to make you panic, Master," Archer said with a smirk. "We share the Archer class, don't we, oh King of Heroes?"

Rin's eyes widened. "King of... wait, you don't mean he's...!"

"Faker. Forger. Thief," the man in gold said. "Each and every weapon in the Gate of Babylon is unique. Special. A priceless treasure fit for a king's collection. To strike against me as you have done is already worthy of death, but to reproduce my treasures?! Such a sin could never be forgiven! You, above all the others, _you_ I will obliterate! _Your suffering will be eternal for what you have done!_ "

"I think he doesn't like you, Archer," Rin said dryly.

"He's having a bad day," Archer agreed. "So bad that he's lashing out against his own desires. Is killing me worth profaning your precious Ea, King of Heroes? Worth destroying your precious Saber? You'll have to do both to bring me down, and you know it."

The air took on the bitter scent of soot, as though the chimney of a blacksmith's forge had blown in from downwind. No swords appeared in the air, but the whisper of steel sliding through the air still resounded through the night, as though the _idea_ of the swords was there, just waiting to be made real. "Unless you want to try me the traditional way. But myself, Berserker, _and_ Saber? Do you think that combination ends in a victory for you? Make your decision quickly, your majesty... I think the Lady Einzbern is safe now, so Berserker will not be patient forever."

Rin's eyes widened further. _Einzbern?! But how could he know the Master of Berserker?! And how does he know this other Archer's identity, and while we're on **that** how are their two Archers to begin with?! None of this makes any sense at all, and my Servant knows way more about it than he should...and I already knew that, didn't I? But like an idiot, I let it drop. Let him talk to me in his own time. Well, **screw that.**_

_Archer. You have some explaining to do, and this time, I won't be taking 'no' for an answer._

Outside of Rin's thoughts, the two Archers' eyes were locked; one face set in a small grin of confidence he did not truly feel, the other locked in a glare of purest malice.

_It all comes down to this,_ Archer thought. _If he tries to draw on the Gate of Babylon again, he dies here and he knows it. His only options are to utilize Ea, or to withdraw. No weapon that anyone here possesses can fully counter that sword, and if he chooses to use it again, he could kill us all in a single attack. But then you don't get what you want, do you, you egocentric idiot? Saber will be gone, and you want her for your own, I know it. Tell me you haven't given up on that yet! Let your greed be more powerful than your anger, just this one time...!_

Gilgamesh drew a deep breath, and released it. "You."

"Hm?"

"Saber can go free, for now. My new target for this war is you," he said. "You know who I am, don't you? Then you know what I can do. Take this as the word of Gilgamesh. What I will do to you cannot even be _described._ Know only that when I am done, your name will go down in history as a synonym for unspeakable torment, a fitting example of what happens when the king is challenged."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"He _really_ does not like you," Rin said.

"As always, Master, your gift for the obvious is beyond compare," Archer said dryly.

"Joke all you like. If it helps you deal with what's to come, enjoy it," Gilgamesh said, very softly. The tone was so out of place for him that Archer couldn't help but notice it. He really _was_ furious, to a degree that Archer had never seen during their previous encounters in his own life. "Nothing can save you now."

Archer pondered this for a moment, before replying in the only way that seemed fitting. "Yes, that's probably true."

Gilgamesh tilted his head to one side, and turned his gaze back to Saber, "I apologize, my treasure. I've behaved in an unseemly fashion before you, shown behavior unbefitting the dignity of my office. You will have to wait to become mine."

"... I shall learn to live with this," Saber said. It went against her nature to allow an enemy to flee, but there was little to be done. As long as he had that blade in hand, she could not be certain even of her Noble Phantasm's ability to oppose him. This was a strange reaction for her... Saber could usually be certain of Excalibur's ability to cut down any foe. But having felt the barest brush of that thing's _power_ , and having learned the identity of the Servant who had somehow followed her from the last War to this one...

The King of Heroes. Gilgamesh, First among all Heroic Spirits, oldest and peerless.

Things had just become very uncertain.

He did not bother to cast his gaze upon Ilya or Berserker... they were nothing, valueless, unworthy of his words. The King of Heroes faded, the light from Ea being the last thing to vanish.

Archer released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. _Why is it_ , he thought, _that no matter what I do, things just end up more complicated?_

* * *

 

Sakura sat in the kitchen, alone in a darkened house.

Rider had grown insubstantial again, in an effort to preserve her Master's prana, and Sakura was honestly happy for the solitude. The pain had faded, or at least as much as it ever did. She still had no idea what had provoked such an intense reaction. She had dreamed of darkness, then searing light, then... agony.

But still, pain was nothing new to her. She had endured. And now, since she was alone... again... she had chosen to get some tea. No sense in sleeping now, lately it hadn't brought her much rest anyway. And she oddly felt... good. Or at least better. Like the tiny little voices that seemed to whisper to her in the darkness had finally fallen silent for a moment. It was almost a relief.

She sipped the calming drink in silence, the only light a tiny lamp on the counter that left the kitchen shrouded in shadows. And so, she didn't notice immediately when one of those shadows began to move.

" _Hello,_ " said a soft whisper into her ear.

Sakura stiffened, a few drops spilling from her teacup and scalding her fingers. She didn't make a sound, though; she was smarter than that.

" _Please do not call for Rider. It would be inconvenient for both of us,"_ Assassin said, the words carrying no further than her ear, despite the silence of the house. She couldn't see him, beyond a slight blurring in the darkness over her shoulder, but his presence was clear enough from the words at least. " _I am only here to deliver a message."_

"Grandfather wants me back," Sakura said. It was not a question.

" _Per his orders, you are to return home immediately,"_ Assassin confirmed. _"Dress and pack what belongings you have. Do not tell anyone where you have gone, do not permit your Servant to interfere. Just go. Now. Silently."_

Sakura Matou was conditioned to this, Assassin knew. His Master had given him the full details before sending him on this mission, let him know just firmly both obedience and hopelessness had been drilled into her since she was a child. And they _had_ been, both burned into her forcefully and viciously each and every day. And so, it only proved to Assassin that Zouken had been right to leash her when her reply was a single, simple sentence.

"And if I refuse?"

Luckily, his Master had provided him with all the tools he needed to deal with this rebellion, as minor as it was. He slid two small photographs onto the counter next to Sakura, and said very simply, " _Then know that your grandfather has taken a great interest in your personal life."_

Sakura gazed down at the images, her eyes widening. Both were shots of her school; specifically, Taiga walking into the main building, and Sakura herself going to the archery club a few steps behind her brother and Mitsuzuri-senpai.

Assassin simply faded away, the mere implication more effective than any spoken threat could have been.

Sakura took a few moments to compose herself, and walked to her room. A few minutes after that, her scarce belongings in a bundle beneath her arm, she walked out of the Emiya house, Rider following silently as she stepped into the darkness.


	18. Cracks in the Mask

Saber sighed, slipping her master into his futon.

Overall, the Servant of the Sword was _not_ happy. At all. The corrupted Lancer... the Shadow, which the young Einzbern Master _swore_ was not destroyed... the Fourth War's Archer... this War had barely begun, and she had already discovered far, far too many variables in it for the tactician in her to be comfortable. Worse, there was hefr Master and his unusual capabilities...

She had analyzed Shirou in detail. He had no talent as a Magus to speak of, incapable of even providing her with basic prana. And yet in their battle with Rider, he had regenerated from a lethal wound. And now, he had somehow recreated from nothingness the weapon of a Servant. A flawed recreation that had shattered under use, but...

 _My Master,_ Saber thought, gazing down on his slumbering form. _What_ are _you?_

* * *

 

The Emiya household kitchen may have been the single most awkward place on the face of the planet.

Archer stood in the corner, trying really hard not to laugh as Ilya and Rin sat across from each other at the kitchen table, trying very, very hard not to look at each other.

It wasn't that they hated each other, necessarily. They didn't know each other. It was just that a few nights ago, Ilya's horrific murder-giant had tried to crush Rin's skull with his enormous axe, and that wasn't the sort of thing the Tohsaka forgot quickly. And yet here she was... and she was just a little thing. A child. Rin could admit that her mind was still having trouble making the connection between that giant and the child sitting across the table from her. She assumed that the Einzbern Master was having a similar probl—

"You can't have him," Ilya said.

"Eh?"

"Shirou. You can't have him," Ilya said flatly. "This war is strange and it's good for him to have an ally, so I'll allow that if you want it. He doesn't really _need_ you when he has me, but I have to be careful about letting him see things and know things. It might be good for him to have someone who can be more open about things. But _don't_ fall in love with him, because he's taken."

Two things happened then.

Rin turned a shade of scarlet that made her shirt look pale, and sputtered out something that sounded like she was trying to say, "No, no! What?! He's an enemy!" "N-no! It's just that he's protecting someone for me!" "S-shut up!" and "That... you... are you crazy, I-I would never think of Emiya like that!", all at once. The end result came out something like, "No! Enemy protecting... think... Emiya! Shut up!"

(Ilya was a bit confused by this, but figured that a Tohsaka may have simply never learned how to properly speak. They were, after all, a clan of savages.)

The other thing that happened was that Archer winced and sighed. _You never change, do you Ilya? Try to be a little gentler with Rin, she's fragile._

Ilya narrowed her eyes and crinkled her nose. "You make no sense. Try to show a little more elegance, Rin, you are supposed to be a noblewoman. Or as close as this country has to them."

" _Oh!_ Oh you little... you think you're so much better? You're a... a toddler acting like you know anything about anything!"

Ilya sniffed. "I can spot that you are a Master in the Holy Grail War, yet you came to the aid of your competitors. You don't know me, so you must have been doing it for Shirou. And that's fine. If you want to save Shirou, I can even maybe call you an ally. I just want you to understand that Shirou is mine, so I'll only tolerate entirely professional associations. Just make sure you keep that in mind."

Rin's jaw fell open. _What the Hell kind of little girl is this, anyway?!_ She didn't know a great deal about the Einzbern clan, but she had kind of been expecting their representative to be... well, someone like her. A traditional Magus, raised from birth for this moment. Not some... some uppity little _brat._ "Your family must be pressed for talent if they're sending children into their battles."

Ilya's expression suggested the smug smirk of a cat that was just about to snap the neck of an unsuspecting mouse as she idly flipped her hair back behind her ear. "You're not very attentive, are you Rin? My Berserker's power is clearly beyond anything _you_ could control, and I can keep him on a short leash no matter how much he runs wild. Oh, I'll admit that Saber and your Archer have proven surprisingly competent as Servants, but it's pretty clear even to an amateur that neither of their Masters can hold a candle to me."

"Archer! Stand up for your Master!" Rin snapped.

"I would, Master, but if I start arguing I worry that her Servant will as well, and then we'll need to find a new room to argue in," Archer said, trying very hard not to laugh at her. He was not, however, trying not to smirk, which explained quite handily the huge smirk on his face.

"You... you... big, tan, traitor!" Rin snarled. She did not, it must be noted, come up with good insults when she was angry.

"Oh my. Can't even get her own Servant to obey..." Ilya said, her tone suggesting Rin was about the single most boring thing on the face of the Earth. "Well, I guess that's about all we could expect of you, Rin."

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean, you little devil girl?!"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Ilya said in the same bored tone. "Unlike some people, I have to maintain my aura of elegant beauty, after all. Occasionally there are some thoughts I just can't share out loud."

"Archer, we are going home. I refuse to be allied with this demon-spawned monster girl," Rin said, her arms crossed in fury and the veins in the corner of her forehead popping out.

Ilya sighed sadly. "Ah, to be the only bastion of culture in a den of ignorance..."

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..." Rin said, eloquently.

Archer stopped trying not to laugh.

" _Traitor,_ " Rin snarled. "I swear, I don't even know why I'm here anymore, it's not like Emiya is anything like an ally to me..."

"Rin," Ilya said softly. "I am supporting Shirou, without question. You are alone. If you try to hurt him, you will face Saber and Berserker as a united front, and make no mistake: Shirou might be too noble to finish things, but I _will_ protect him with lethal force if I need to."

"... On the other hand, I guess he wouldn't be a _bad_ ally. I mean, there are worse people to have as an ally. And he's got such wonderful hair," Rin said quickly. It wasn't that she was scared of the little twerp (because she _wasn't_ ) it was the situation. They were in a tiny, enclosed space. She was more confident in her Archer than she had been at the start of the War, and she felt he could probably face down even Berserker, if the girl chose to attack. But they were in a room the size of her bedroom. One exchange from the two Servants, and the entire kitchen would be a meat grinder.

Rin, in general, tried to not be inside meat grinders.

Saber stepped into the room, adding a whole new layer of awkardness. Representatives of three Master/Servant teams were here, now, and not one of them was technically in an alliance yet. The air practically hummed with the power of the Servants tensing for battle, even the invisible Berserker.

"Shirou," Saber began, "is resting peacefully. I have seen no signs of any permanent damage."

"I didn't get the chance to examine him fully, but the symptoms aren't odd. You said he created a projection? It sounds like his magic circuits were activated by an outside source, and the shock exhausted him," Rin said, steepling her fingers as she leaned onto the table. "He should be fine, though he should also look into a teacher sooner rather than later. The question I'd be asking is... who gave him the external stimulus?"

"Erm..." Ilya said, blushing furiously and very carefully not looking directly at anyone. "I... might... know."

Saber turned to Ilya, her face grim. "Lady von Einzbern... would I be remiss in believing that the one responsible for Shirou's frequent absences from our home during the day is you?"

"Er... well, I may have been _involved_ , but I don't think I _made_ him do anything..." Ilya said, idly running her fingers against each other. "I mean it's... I just kind of... that... I... he seemed to like it and... he kept coming back and he spent time with me and we would sit and talk and there was one time he was sick and something had drained his soul and I helped and I think that was what made this happen and I didn't mean it I swear..."

Rin's eyes narrowed, and Saber's face grew cold and distant. Each of them had, at that moment and against all odds, a largely identical thought: _Logically, there is no reason for me to want to punch Shirou in the face after hearing this. Yet the desire is very much alive._

"As interesting as this is," Archer drawled. "It's a secondary concern. Ilya, what can you tell us about the Shadow?"

Ilya sighed. "Not a lot... at least, not a lot that I should share with someone who isn't from the Einzbern family..."

"Lady Einzbern," Saber said gently. "I have taken an oath of alliance with you, until such time as my Master orders me to end it. I will not turn any information you might give me during this time against you or your family. You have my word."

Ilya found herself blushing just a tiny bit at Saber's tone. _G-geez, what the heck is she doing? She really is just that earnest, isn't she? I guess that she really is a knight..._

"W-well. I guess if Saber is going to ask like that, I could let a little bit of information out. I'll just have to be careful... since I am an Einzbern princess, of course, so there's a lot of dangerous data that I can't let the Tohsakas know," Ilya said, a proud smirk on her face and a slight blush still coloring her cheeks. "Saber, I'm trusting you to make sure I'm protected in case Rin tries to take advantage of anything I say here."

"Of course, Lady Einzbern," Saber said with a slight bow. "I would never allow an ally to be disadvantaged in such a way. And of course, I am well-suited to the defense of a noblewoman. I will protect you, no matter what."

"Hee hee... well, of course you would. I mean, I am a princess, and as a knight that's only sensible," Ilya said kind of pointlessly, both the aura of intense pride and the blush in her cheeks growing noticeably more intense.

Archer sighed. _Looks like Ilya's not the only one who hasn't changed at all. Still unintentionally charming girls, Saber?_

"You are going to eventually tell us what's going on, right 'princess?'" Rin asked dryly.

"Envy is an ugly color on a lady, Rin," Ilya said. "Now. The Shadow... Rin. What do you know about the Holy Grail?"

Rin blinked. "Not as much as I should. My father died in the last War before he could complete my education, and many of the records he left behind were woefully incomplete. I really only know the basics. It's a massive receptacle of spiritual energy, and chooses the seven Masters who will compete in the War, letting them summon a Servant. As each Servant is destroyed, their energy is absorbed by the Grail, and when six have been taken in, the final Servant can claim the Grail for their Master, using the accumulated power to grant each one a wish."

"I see... so you don't know the whole truth, then. You only have the basic overview of the system, but you don't know the full function," Ilya said. "Six Servants is indeed enough to create the wish-granting system, but it doesn't activate the Grail's full function. The _real_ purpose of the Holy Grail is to act as the power source to activate the ritual circle hidden here in Fuyuki, the Tohsaka's sacred ground... the Greater Grail."

"Greater Grail?" Rin asked, her expression growing contemplative. "So there's another aspect to the magic ritual? Something that isn't disclosed to the general competitors? But what is its purpose?"

"When activated by the full sacrifice of all seven Servants, the Greater Grail is able to act as a gateway to the Root."

Rin's eyes widened. "Akasha... that's actually a possibility? Damn, no wonder it was never explained. The Magus Assocation would swarm Fuyuki for any potential path to the Root, and then the founding families would either have to go to war, or be left out in the cold."

"Exactly. Einzbern, Tohsaka, and Makiri couldn't risk the Grail being taken from them, and so foreign Magi invited to compete are only told of the wish-granting ritual of the lesser Grail system," Ilya said. "The real purpose is safely veiled to everyone except, ideally, the Masters representing the three families."

"Forgive me, Lady Einzbern," Saber interrupted, "But what does this have to do with the Shadow?"

"As I said, the Greater Grail is like an engine that lacks fuel. A machine missing a battery. The Holy Grail created by Einzbern is supposed to serve as that battery, but... as with any machine, if you're familiar enough with its workings, you can acquire your own power source without going through the official channels," Ilya said flatly. "I can't prove anything yet, but based on my investigation, I believe the Shadow is the result of an attempt to create a new Holy Grail to serve as that power source, one outside of Einzbern's control. And the perpetrator of this treachery is the current head of the Makiri family, Zouken Matou."

Saber considered this before saying, "Then should not the issue be decided? The Magus Zouken was destroyed by Lancer earlier this evening."

"For starters, I will believe that he really died when I see his corpse myself. He is not the sort who would willingly put himself in danger without an escape plan," Ilya said. "Second, even if he was dead, I don't think his Grail is going to stop. It seems able to move and act on its own, and... I could _feel_ it. How hungry it is. Even if it's just instinct, it _wants_ to hunt the Servants."

"So it is alive? Intelligent?" Saber asked.

"I don't know intelligent... I think it's more like an animal reacting on instinct," Ilya said carefully, trying to draw the conversation away from the thing's mind. The _last_ thing she needed was someone realizing that...

"It might be a person," Archer said offhandedly, the only thing he had contributed to the conversation.

Ilya froze.

 _How did he know that?! I only worked it out because I traced the projection back to this house!_ Ilya thought in a panic. _The nature of the Grail is kept from the Masters by the Einzbern clan. If Rin knew that would be one thing, but she doesn't know anything and no Servant should know a Holy Grail takes human shape unless they've actually seen o—_

"Yes, I was thinking along the same lines," Saber said. "I have encountered a Holy Grail in human form before. If Zouken was following the same process, his Black version may be a person as well."

 _Oh, come on!_ Ilya's thoughts screamed. Did nobody have a _normal_ Servant in this stupid War? She was trying _so hard_ to keep these people from gutting Shirou's friend Whats-her-name Matou, and they were just making it _really hard_ on her by knowing all sorts of things they shouldn't be able to know. There certainly couldn't be too many people that Zouken Makiri would use as the base for his Grail, and they'd eventually get to her simply by process of elimination...

"I don't think so," Rin said. "There are only three individuals in the Matou family, and to the best of my knowledge, only Zouken himself is a Magus of appreciable skill. Shinji is an insect, the only reason he was able to summon Rider at all was his grandfather setting him up with a false circuit. And Sakura..."

"It is true, I have seen no particular signs that Sakura is abnormal, beyond some the oddness of her coloration. She could not even fend off her brother when he came for her," Saber added.

"Yes, yes!" Ilya said cheerfully. "Rin, you really are good for something!"

"What the Hell is _that_ supposed to mean you little m-wait, what was that, Saber?" Rin asked, her expression leaping back and forth between rage and concern.

"Shinji Matou came to the household and attempted to take Sakura back to his family estate. She was willing to return with him, but he was exceptionally rude. I ejected him," Saber said, a bit of ice entering her voice.

Rin actually chuckled. "I would have enjoyed seeing that..." she admitted. "But Shinji has never seemed a particularly fraternal person. I find it hard to believe he would just come over to another Master's home unless he had some reason beyond his sister."

Ilya's nose wrinkled in disgust. "That slimy thing? I'm sure Zouken Makiri is pulling its strings. Erm... not that I think he'd care enough about his granddaughter to reclaim her, of course. She's just a girl, right?"

Archer sighed in annoyance as he recognized Ilya's ploy. He had been trying to steer things in the opposite direction... he had never encountered this situation in life, but it was not difficult to piece together just what place Sakura had in it. _Ah, the things I do for my sister..._ he thought, before saying out loud, "Well, he may have just not wanted a potential source of information available to the enemy. Shirou Emiya is a bit too thick to recognize this, but if she was raised in the Matou manor, she might know something of value. Shinji may have been sent to make sure she didn't talk. You should have killed him, of course."

"Agreed," Saber said flatly. "My first instinct was always to cut the animal down, but Shirou and Sakura are concerned with his survival for some reason I cannot determine. Still, he was thwarted in his efforts. If Zouken Matou wishes the girl returned, he will have to do it by some other method."

Rin blinked a few times. "You mean, by making some move on the subject while you and Shirou are out, leaving her alone and unguarded except for a boundary field that has no power beyond being a basic burglar alarm."

There was silence for several long seconds.

It was up for debate whether Saber or Rin got up from the table more quickly, but it was obviously Saber who took the lead in the sprint for Sakura's room. She was both immensely faster, and she knew the route, leaving Rin trailing behind her. And so, she was the first to find the empty futon.

"Gone," she muttered. "No sign of a struggle. Did she leave of her own will, or was she coerced?"

"The Matou don't know any way to do things _other_ than coercion," Rin snapped. "I was hoping she wouldn't be caught up in all this madness. That sharing a house with you would keep her... as safe as anyone in Fuyuki can be during times like this. I should have known better."

Saber turned to face Rin, her eyes narrowing. "You are a Tohsaka. She is a Matou. You have been... oddly protective of Sakura, but is it not the typical role of your two families to be at each other's throats?"

The difference a small change can make cannot be underestimated.

Saber and Rin Tohsaka were not, by nature, women who gave their trust quickly. This was almost ironic, in a way, since they were also possessed of personalities that were insanely compatible. In another world, a world where they had known each other for even a few days, had even a small amount of time under the flag of truce to bond and come to know each other... it was very likely that Saber would have approached this matter with more delicacy, and that Rin would have at least considered the possibility of taking the other girl's aid.

This was not that world.

Without an answer, the young girl turned on her heel and ran for the door, Archer appearing beside her like a shadow. "We're leaving?" he asked in confusion. "We haven't reached a conclusion about anyth-"

"Saber and the von Einzbern girl can work it out on their own. It's not like anyone can deal with that pairing anyway," Rin said. "I have something personal to handle."

"You saw the second Archer, Rin. You saw how dangerous the Shadow is. Even those two together are outmatched by the kinds of opponents popping up to face them," Archer said, disapproval clear in his tone.

Rin stopped and turned on him, her eyes burning. "Archer. When push comes to shove, they're still enemies first and foremost. Maybe you should worry less about them, and more about the fact that that Master of Berserker never told us her name."

Archer stopped, blinking. "What do you mean by _that_?"

"You called her Ilya. She never told us her name," Rin snapped, not stopping to turn to face him as she put her shoes back on. "You know more than you should. You always have. I've let it slide until now, and if you want me to keep on letting it slide, you'll stay in line."

Archer was very silent as he watched her go... until, with a final sigh of exasperation, he followed her into the night.

* * *

 

"I had been under the impression," Kirei said delicately, "that you were going to maintain your distance from the events of the War for some time."

"I changed my mind," Gilgamesh muttered as the priest held a glowing palm over the stump of his left hand. Gilgamesh was an unusual being; while he was not truly alive, there was some flesh and blood to his existence. He was a thing somewhere between the existence of a Servant and a truly living being. While this did have many advantages, most particularly in that he did not require a contract to remain in the world, it also meant that he could not regenerate in the way that other Servants did. While this was usually not a problem, given that it was nearly impossible to get close enough to hurt him, it meant that the more serious of the wounds he had suffered this night required attention.

Kirei shrugged, understanding that Gilgamesh would not be offering any other explanation for his actions; in his mind there was no need to explain his actions at all, nor what had happened to his hand. "Were you able to retrieve the severed hand? I should be able to reattach it, if you wish."

"I don't want it anymore," Gilgamesh said, very softly.

"... Did the hand do something to offend you?" Kirei asked, being very careful to keep his voice totally deadpan. Despite this, Gilgamesh still turned a gaze so venomous on him that Kirei almost wished Lancer were still around to use as a human shield.

"It offended me," Gilgamesh said softly, "by being cut off."

"Pragmatism does have a place in such a conflict. A lost hand..." Kirei began delicately.

"Is meaningless to me. Such a small injury will do little to impact my combat potential, Kirei. In fact, quite the opposite," he said softly, looking down at the bloody bandage wrapped around the hand. "Every time I look at it, my mind gets more clear, my hatred burns a little more cold.

"I can't imagine a better reminder of who I need to kill most of all."

Kirei was carefully expressionless for several long seconds, before his lips curled into a small, cold smile. "Well, then. Perhaps things have worked out for the best after all. If nothing else, I do think that whatever comes next, it will be very, very interesting."

Gilgamesh threw back his head and laughed. "HA! Yes, yes, that's why you are the worthiest master for me! I will unleash a wave of slaughter upon the Holy Grail War such as no lesser hero can even imagine, and every drop of blood will give a little bit of joy to your black soul."

Kirei turned his face from Gilgamesh, his smile fading as he left the room. _Well, he does have a point, if not the one I would have made. This does have the potential to be a very amusing turn of events..._

_But if things progress along the best possible path, I fear you may not live to see the best of it, my old friend._

* * *

 

Walking back into this place always felt like stepping into a spider's web.

Sakura stepped back into her family's ancestral home, the dank hallways lit only by candlelight flickering across rotten wood and worn carpets. Grandfather had never cared much for the upkeep up the old estate; magi did not need much in the way of creature comforts. The girls at school liked nii-san so much because the Matous had money, but most of them didn't recognize part of this was because they had once _been_ genuinely wealthy, and simply spent very little. Enough food to subsist on, water, secondhand clothes. There was no real income, but it mattered little because there was almost no spending, either.

Other families lived. The Matou stagnated.

Assassin had vanished as soon as she entered the home, and she had not heard or felt any particular summons from her grandfather yet; apparently he had just wanted her somewhere he could keep closer watch on her, not called her back for any particular reason. She wasn't sure why he cared so suddenly-

**_He is afraid, and with good reason._ **

_-_ but it was not her place to complain, or to question. She elected to head for her own bedchambers until summoned.

She barely made it to the steps.

Someone caught the back of her hair, yanking her off her feet. She didn't cry out, didn't struggle; the consequences of these acts had been burned into her body for over a decade. She merely went limp, falling to her assailant's feet.

"Well. Well. Well," Shinji drawled, his skin still pale and sweat-soaked from the curse that Rin had inflicted on him, though to Sakura's eyes the worst of the illness had passed. The roiling emotions in his eyes, though...

"Hello, Nii-san," she said softly, and then fell to one side slightly in anticipation of the inevitable backhand. She was familiar enough with Shinji's habits to know he typically used his right hand for the initial blow. Leaning away from it took some of the sting out. As typical, he lashed out, and she fell to the floor, more of her own volition than from the genuine force of the blow. Instantly, she curled her body up, so that when he kicked her in the midsection, the blow fell on muscle instead of her kidneys.

"Who told you that you could talk?!" her brother snapped, looking down on her prone form. "After what you did?! The way you humiliated me?!"

**_Kill him._ **

Sakura swallowed, ignoring both the very obvious fact that she had done nothing in particular to Shinji, and the red behind her eyes. Old programming overwhelmed new impulses... at least in this house. "I'm sorry, Nii-san. Grandfather said..."

"I don't care what he said," Shinji hissed, lifting her to her feet by her hair. "I told you to come home. You made me look weak by refusing. How are you going to make that up to me, you little whore? How are you going to pay me back for that humiliation? I'm your _brother_. You are supposed to _obey_."

Sakura carefully did not look him in the eyes. If he saw her eyes, he'd just get angrier, no matter what emotion was in them. "I'm sorry, Nii-san."

He threw her to the floor again, and she just barely caught herself. She hadn't seen that coming; truthfully, she had expected he demand she disrobe. It wasn't exactly unusual of him.

"You can show me you're sorry by coming to the basement," Shinji snarled, sounding more like a feral animal than a person. "You know what I want. All the materials you used last time are still there."

… Ah.

Shinji's lusts were not running toward the physical, then.

She stood and followed him into the basement, the chittering of the worms like an old, familiar lullaby at this point. Shinji halted on the path, and she walked past him into the swarm that covered the floor. Anyone else save their grandfather, even Shinji himself would have been devoured had he given himself to the feeding chamber so freely. The worms were creations of Matou magecraft, each one a spell, constructs of mana and shaped flesh that were the foundation of all Zouken's work. Anyone they did not recognize who entered their tomb would be swarmed, drained of their mana and devoured to further power the rituals etched into every cell of their bodies.

But Sakura was special. The worms knew her. She wasn't their food. The curled around her legs, she felt their teeth against her flesh, but none of them bit.

Her training and education had been pitiful, but a true Makiri would not die here.

She knelt, the worms swarming over her, and she picked out one, two, three individual creatures and called them to her. She pressed them underneath her hands, and they let out a trilling scream. The glowed with a pale green light, pulsing in time with the illuminated Command Seal on her hand, one-third of it already dim. The glow between her fingers grew brighter, so brilliant she couldn't even look at it, even as the red glyph on her flesh grew dimmer, another third of it vanishing...

The light in the room turned from green to blinding white, and the worms shrieked and fled. They were barely alive, but even they could feel the terror of standing in the presence of something infinitely greater than themselves; similar in nature, but in scope as far beyond the worms as a human was beyond an amoeba.

Sakura stood, a small leather-bound book in her hands. Servant Rider tilted her head to one side, gazing at her, her face blank. "I am to be serving a new Master again, then?" she asked, her tone giving no hints as to what she thought of this.

Sakura did not answer, merely handed the Tome of the False Attendant to her brother.

She walked upstairs without looking at his face. She suspected that his smile was not something she wanted to look at.

Far away, on the other side of a glowing gem, Rin Tohsaka watched the scene of Rider materializing at her sister's command with wide eyes.

"Oh," she said, very softly.


	19. Meetings and Greetings

The world was dark.

There was no up, no down, nothing but black, and red, and the screams of the damned as their half-devoured souls whirled in a maelstrom. This place was a world of sin, and darkness. Anyone drawn into it could look forward to nothing but pain, madness, and shortly a horrible death.

Which is why it was strange that two figures were somehow intact amid the storm, though admittedly only one of them looked like she was exactly happy.

Lancer threw his head back, screaming as tendrils of scarlet-lined blackness dug under his armor and burrowed into his skin. Blood flowed freely down his body, vanishing into the swirling chaos that made up the world around them.

"Are we learning a lesson in obedience, here?" Caster asked mildly.

"Hahahaha, not bad, not bad, though you gotta be careful. If you go down too low, there's no nerve endings, so stick close to the surfaAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he screamed as the bindings snapped out, ripping fist-sized holes in his chest and stomach.

"Apparently not, then. It's a shame... had I been aware of what an annoyance you would turn out to be, I would have let Saber and Berserker dispose of you."

Lancer smirked, something writhing beneath the skin of his neck. "Yeah, good thing you aren't too good at tactical thinking... and didn't really understand how our Master _really_ thinks. You yammer on and on like you're controlling her, but deep down she's just like me. All she wants is to _feed_. Can't you see that? All she needs is _blood_ and you waste your time scheming when we could be shedding it for her!"

Caster sighed, and shifted her hand slightly. Around them, the chaos shifted, forming several new razor-edged strands that wrapped around Lancer's left leg, and with a sharp twist, tore it off.

" _Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"_ he screamed for nearly a full minute, before falling once more into laughter. "Oh, now... you're just being _catty_."

Caster narrowed her eyes. "This isn't as satisfying as I'd thought it would be," she said, watching as the limb started to grow back almost immediately.

"Not my fault you're no good at torture. If I wasn't a Servant, I'd be bleeding to death in minutes, and then were would you be? I _told_ you to stick near the surface where the most sensitive nerves are. Inflict pain without major damage," Lancer said, his wide smile stained red with his own blood. "Trust me, I'm an expert. Let me move around a little, and I'll show you personally. Generous, right?"

Caster sighed once again. "You are aware that we are part of the same primal chaos. We are one with this infinite darkness ,and it infuses us with its endless power. As such, with my superior knowledge and control of it, I can _literally_ torture you _forever_ if you don't stop behaving like a _wild dog_ and do as you are _told!_ "

The tendrils of blackness snapped and twisted in response to her fury, tearing long gashes into Lancer's body. He just continued to laugh, even when a particularly brutal stroke cut his mask in half, and left one of the eyes behind it a bloody ruin.

"Yeah," Lancer said, one gold eye locked on her. "But you _need_ me. Your little tricks make you hard to kill, maybe, but you're weak. You can't beat the other Servants by yourself. So next time it's time for our Master to feed... we'll see which of us is _really_ in charge."

Caster sighed, and twisted her hand again.

The wailing of the lost souls blended into the screams of Lancer for some time, before both were eclipsed by mocking, triumphant laughter.

* * *

 

_Shirou Emiya stirred._

_His dreams of late had been stranger than usual. He had always dreamed of fire, of course. That was nothing new. One could not be through what he had been through in his life without having nightmares. He had always dreamed of those flames, because they had destroyed the person he was and left him nothing but ash to build a new self from._

_But things had changed._

_Never before had he seen that blackness behind it all so clearly. At the core of the flame where there should have been nothing but light, he could see a darkness. Not so much a shadow as a festering pit that the flames could not touch. Light and heat flowed around it, as if even the fire itself was somehow afraid to touch that blackness. It was a thing anathema to every natural force, even the destructive ones._

_And never before had he felt... cold, when he was here._

_This was not a complaint. This dream was common, and it always, always_ burned _. The heat and smoke felt every bit as real as they had the day he had actually been part of this inferno. As he walked through the flames, a child again, he could barely see, hardly breathe. Felt nothing but pain, fire that seemed to melt through his flash and ignite his blood even as it flowed within his body. Now, though, there was a strange chill in the air._

_A few flakes of snow fluttered down around him, unmelting despite the heat._

" _I'm sorry. For everything."_

Shirou's eyes fluttered open, and he looked around the familiar confines of his own room with the lack of comprehension that always follows waking up in a place one did not fall asleep.

_Except I didn't fall asleep. I... I..._

He had lost consciousness. But he hadn't been wounded, he had... done _something_. He just couldn't piece together what. Lancer had attacked, and there had been a burning sensation inside his body, something had clicked in his mind and...

Well, it probably wasn't important. He felt fine. _Great,_ even. Like something that had been missing before had somehow fallen into place, like a missing puzzle piece being inserted.

Shirou wasn't so foolish as to think he didn't still have many, many missing pieces. But maybe at least one thing was going right, for once. Maybe.

He stood up, and was pleased to find no real dizziness at all. _So far, so good. I should head downstairs, then. The sun's up. Saber will want something to eat, and Sakura is..._

"Sakura is gone," Saber said.

" _Gah!_ " Shirou said eloquently, jumping halfway out of his skin and finally taking that tumble to the floor he'd been worried about as his legs caught in the blankets of his futon. He felt his head impact with the wooden floor... not enough for a concussion, at least, but it left his head swimming and his ears ringing. "Ouch..."

"I apologize," Saber said, standing up from her position in the corner of the room where she had been sitting at attention. "I thought you knew I was here."

"Why would I know you were here?!" Shirou snapped. "We talked about this, I don't feel comfortable with you staying in my room while I'm sleeping!"

Saber tilted her head to one side. "Yes, and I informed you I would not be following this order because it is tactical suicide. You are ignoring the point."

"No, I think that the one ignoring what's going on is y-" he began, before cutting himself off mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "Wait, what did you say about Sakura?"

"She is gone. She left the house during the night. W—I do not know if she left willingly or was coerced," Saber said. She did not particularly enjoy the idea, keeping a secret like this from her Master. But her oaths of chivalry compelled her as much as any Command Seal. The Lady von Einzbern had requested she keep her involvement discreet, and unless she gave Saber some reason to believe she meant Shirou harm, or Shirou himself demanded otherwise, she would do so. It was, perhaps, not the wisest course, but she _had_ sworn.

Luckily, Shirou was in no state of mind to notice the minor slip-up. "Okay, let me get my coat and shoes. Grab your sword."

"I do not have to 'grab' my..."

"I don't care! We're going to find her. Maybe Shinji knows something. I wouldn't put it past him anymore," Shirou said.

Saber sighed. "Shirou, I understand that you are worried, but there is much about last night that you do not know yet. It will take some time to debrief you on all that happened while you were unconscious, but suffice to say that we may be in significant danger moving about outside, even during daylight hours."

Shirou turned to her. "I don't _care_ if I'm in danger! Sakura is like family to me, and after finding out her brother is a murderer and her grandfather is... is some kind of _monster_ , I'm not leaving her alone in that house! Stay here if you want, but I'm going," he snapped, slamming the door behind him as he stormed out of the room.

Saber sighed, and stood up. She walked over to the door, her footsteps making no sound on the wooden floor, and opened it delicately. She stepped outside, turned, and closed it quietly behind her so as to be polite.

Then she charged.

She caught Shirou in something less than a second, leaping between him and the door through a space that conventional logic would have said was too small for her. She then planted her feet firmly, held her arms out to cover the hallway, and said, "Stop."

Shirou blinked, his mind struggling to recognize the fact that empty air had just sprouted a girl. Human senses tended to have some issues keeping up with Saber when she got really moving, and she was _really_ moving.

Still, Shirou had gotten kind of used to surprises by now, and he took this latest in stride. "Saber, move. It's fine if you want to stay here, but I have to go."

"Shirou, you are my Master. If you wish to rush into danger, I will follow you every step of the way, no matter the risk," Saber said.

"Fine, come with me."

"I cannot do that, because you are not going. There is nothing that you can... _what are you doing?!_ "

It must be noted that Saber had stopped to shriek in mid-sentence because Shirou had chosen to, rather than continue arguing with her, just pick her up bodily and move her out of the way. A hero of pride and power she might well have been, but Saber was also a tiny slip of a girl, barely over five feet tall and weighing in at just shy of ninety-three pounds. Shirou routinely moved packages her size or larger at any number of the many jobs he worked after school, and was able to pick her up and place her off to the side without any visible effort.

"Saber," he said to her sputtering, blushing face. "I'm _going._ "

"Shirou, you are only going to put yourself and most likely Sakura in pointless danger if you-" Saber said, trailing behind him as he walked right on to the front door where his shoes waited.

"Saber. This isn't something I can argue about. She was here. I was supposed to keep her safe, and I failed her. I promised Tohsaka..."

"Rin is an _enemy_ , you-"

"... And I promised _Sakura,"_ he finished, his tone one of absolute finality. "I swore I would keep her safe for as long as she stayed with me. I can't just forget that because it's convenient for me. So again... stay if you want. I'm leaving."

Saber sighed, rubbing her temples to fight off the growing migraine that she could clearly not actually have because certainly a Servant would not be laid low by so mundane a force.

And then she decided to make her point a bit more forcefully.

Once again she charged, clearing the hallway to reach him by the front door at just barely below the speed of sound. Clamping a hand like a vise onto his wrist, she spun the arm around him and pinned it behind his back at the same time she hooked a foot around his leg and pulled it out from under him, knocking him off balance at the same time she leaned into him and put all her weight against him at the same time she removed his support. It was not much weight, as he had so callously reminded her (as though it was her fault she did not have a traditional warrior's build!), but it hit him from behind at the same time he was knocked off balance by her other motions.

The entire process took slightly less than a second, and ended with Shirou on the floor, his arm clamped firmly behind him and a rather annoyed knight-king planted on his back.

"... Oof," Shirou said, his voice muffled by his face being pressed into the welcome mat. It was a fairly safe bet he was saying, "Ouch," but it was hard to be sure.

"You are going to listen now, yes?" Saber asked.

Shirou tilted his head to one side to get floor out of his mouth, and said, "I'm _going_ and you can't stop me."

"Current evidence suggests otherwise."

Shifting his weight, Shirou moved his other arm to highlight the Command Seal glowing on it. "Check again."

Saber narrowed her eyes. "You have only two Seals remaining. You would willingly waste one for nothing than the ability to, most likely, walk into a trap?"

"I told you. Sakura is family. Until I know she's safe, I can't focus on the War anyway. So yes, if this is the only way to get you on board..."

Saber sighed. "Shirou. I am worried about her too, but this will achieve nothing. If she returned of her own free will, then she will not return with us willingly now. If she was coerced into doing so, it means that her life will be in danger if we approach the Matou manor so boldly as this. Or do you believe that a creature such as that magus Zouken would not see her as a hostage? Use her as a human shield if it benefited him?"

Shirou stayed tense for several long seconds, before exhaling and seeming to shrink beneath Saber as he stopped (futilely) struggling in her grasp. "You couldn't have presented this argument _before_ you threw me...?"

"I could have, but it would not have had the same impact." Saber said demurely.

"... Was that a joke?"

"I'm sure I have no idea," Saber said, and Shirou could practically _feel_ her eyes twinkling, even if he couldn't turn to see her face.

Shirou sighed. "You can let me up now."

"You promise to remain in the house? Under my protection?" Saber asked warily.

"No, but I promise to let the Matou problem sit still for now," Shirou said. "I have some other things to worry about..."

"Ah. So you 'merely' wish to wander the city for hours unsupervised, while not telling me where you have gone?" Saber asked, eyes narrowed. Just because she knew where he had been going now did not mean she was going to let him get off the hook for _that_ one. _Honestly, going out to spend his time... doing whatever it is he has been doing with that girl, during the middle of a war! And her another Master, no less! He is lucky he hasn't already had his skull smashed in. Not that he has much inside it, frankly._

Shirou smiled slightly. "Well, actually... I was planning to go to church."

* * *

 

Shinji Matou was truly happy for the first time in a long time.

Yes, his grandfather had betrayed him, tried to strip him of the power that was his by right. Rin Tohsaka had spurned him, and Sakura had _defied_ him. And most galling of all, that vile little nobody Emiya had intruded on the ritual that was _his_ birthright.

But all that was in the past, now. He walked down the halls of the school he might as well have owned, enjoying the sights; the girls tittering as he walked past, their smiles making it clear what they wanted from him. And even better, the hatefully jealous glares of the men who knew he could have any one of those girls that he wanted. And best of _all_...

The wraith of Rider moved silently in his wake, hidden from mortal eyes. Around him, the scent of the boundary field she was slowly but surely building around the school was like an intoxicant, driving him to greater and greater heights of ecstasy with each step he took further into it. He pictured it activating, draining the life out of every one of these insects, leaving them to fall where they stood, gasping for air, their souls being ripped out of their melting flesh to service him... the image made a chill of pleasure ran up his spine.

 _Not yet. But soon,_ he thought, knowing that particular thrill would come to him in time. That was the whole reason he had come back here, after all... to let Rider continue her progress in preparing the Bloodfort. She had to be nearby to strengthen it, and Tohsaka had kept up her efforts to slow construction. But until it was ready, he contented himself with walking down the halls like a conquering king, enjoying the lust and envy directed at him, basking in the glow of his own restored power.

It really _was_ possible to have everything you wanted, if things just lined up right.

He turned the corner, and his good mood was instantly spoiled.

 _Rider_? He thought, slipping a hand inside his jacket to touch the Tome of the False Attendant as he stared down the crowded hallway and directly into the eyes of Rin Tohsaka, standing in his path as bold as brass.

 _Be cautious, Master. Archer is with her_ , his Servant's soft voice whispered into his mind.

 _Of course he's with her, you useless doll. She would have to be an idiot to travel without him, and even more of an idiot to start a fight where everyone can see it. Now if you don't have anything useful to say, keep your worthless mouth shut,_ he replied, pleased by her falling into obedient silence. As it should be, wasn't it? She was a tool. A doll who did his bidding, and now that she was back in her rightful place under his heel, all was right in the world...

Rin strode up to him, no fear in her eyes, a fact which both annoyed him and enticed him. On the one hand, her lack of fear in light of his abilities spoke to a lack of respect, and that was something he absolutely _loathed_.

On the other... well, he couldn't help but admire that fire, in a way. She was a Magus. One of the chosen, the strong. It was what he'd always desired about her. Of all people, shouldn't she be the one who could approach him as an equal? The two of them were the only people in this entire school who had a life that _meant_ anything. Like gods among insects.

Rin stopped beside him, and smiled. "Welcome back, Matou. I thought you'd be out longer... I heard you were very ill."

Okay, no, screw that hint of respect and equality. He was going to make this bitch _scream_. Make her into nothing but a toy for his pleasure, a broken, mindless doll just like her-

"So, I was thinking, Matou. I have a project I've been working on that I think you could help me with," Rin said, smiling the most innocent smile imaginable.

… _Wait, what?_ Shinji thought, the sheer oddness of her words burning through the black, crawling haze that filled his mind. "Tohsaka, are you actually suggesting we should-"

She raised a hand, the smile on her face stretching to touch her eyes, leaving her the absolute image of an elegant and charming young lady in the Spring of her youth. "You see, Matou, I have recently found myself involved in an extracurricular activity. A sort of afterschool competition. You may have heard of it?" she said, giggling—an actual goddamn _giggle!_ From Rin _Tohsaka!_ -as she asked. "And the thing is? Well, the competition has just been a bit too much for me lately. I'm starting to think I'll need some backup, and then I thought: you know who I know that might be interested in something like that? My old friend Matou!"

Shinji blinked. "Friend?"

"Well, we've known each other for years," Rin said, sounding genuinely hurt at the prospect that Shinji might have somehow never thought of her as a true friend. It was in that moment that Shinji had to admit that whatever else Rin was, she was probably the best actor he'd ever seen. "And I always thought that if I ever needed help, you would come rushing to my aid like a gentleman. Especially since a little birdie told me that you've picked up a _very_ reliable subordinate again...?"

Shinji's eyes widened, his face reflexively turning to where he _knew_ Rider was standing and where he knew that Tohsaka couldn't _possibly_ have seen her...

Rin's smile turned vaguely shark-like, and she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Really, Shinji, did you think I didn't have eyes on the Matous? Every magus in the war knows where that particular competition lives."

"What's your game, you little fox...?" Shinji muttered.

Rin took a step back, her smile shifting seamlessly back to the chipper, bubbly schoolgirl. "Why, nothing at all! I was really hoping we might be able to discuss some kind of pact, don't you know? I think the help would be in everyone's best interests. So if you want to talk a little more about it, well, I would just _love_ to meet you for lunch. See you on the roof at noon? And remember, keeping a girl waiting is just the height of rudeness!"

Rin skipped off— _skipped_!-down the hallway, whistling a little tune. He had to admit, it was a bit... overdone, but Rin deserved a medal of some sort simply for the fact that nobody on Earth would have looked at her that moment and thought _'Magus'._

Shinji blinked a few times. "Noon, huh...?" he muttered to himself, pondering the implications.

Rin stopped skipping and stepped into her first class of the day, her smile vanishing. _Do you think I overdid it?_

 _The skipping was probably too much,_ Archer replied softly, _but I doubt Shinji is cunning enough to spot the thread._

_He's a bit of an ass, yes, but I can't have him suspecting anything until it's too late. I just need to get him alone for five minutes..._

_Rin... I shouldn't have to tell you this plan is incredibly risky. Even if Shinji reacts as you have planned –and there's no saying he will, and won't just activate the boundary field Rider's put up around the school out of blind paranoia!–the endgame you have planned out might literally be impossible for a human being._

_I wouldn't have suggested it if I couldn't handle it._ Rin thought irritably. _Besides, even if you knew what you were talking about, how do I know you're telling the truth?_

Archer sighed, and fell silent, even in his own mind. Rin's smile turned genuine, and she settled into her desk and pulled out the text for her first class of the day, every inch the diligent pupil, just as she had been an absolutely perfect little flirt when Shinji had been watching.

If there was one thing she knew, it was how to keep up appearances.

* * *

 

Shirou opened the door to Kotomine church, and peered inside. The place seemed to be deserted, at least of people. As Shirou had noted on his first visit, and confirmed now, there was a certain aura of creepiness that never left the place no matter what.

Shirou sighed, shutting the door behind him as he walked into the main chamber of the church, walking down the aisle between pews and looking around. "Um... Father Kotomine? Are you h-"

"But of course. Where else would I be?"

Shirou jumped halfway out of his skin, spinning on his ankle, to find the priest. The man was standing, somehow, between him and the door, a smile on his face that could only be called insolent... and only then because "mocking" seemed like a very rude term to use to describe a priest.

Shirou narrowed her eyes, instinctive loathing filling his mind. It wasn't the same as with Archer... that was more an irritability, but laced with a certain respect for the Servant's obvious, and amazing, skill. With Kotomine, he just could not hear the man's voice without wanting to hit him.

It probably wasn't a very heroic thought to have. He was a priest, after all, even if one who had a kind of... well... a sort of aura of evil about him. For lack of a better term. _Then again, he is one of the people running this War that's killing people all over my town. Maybe he could use a good beating._

Kirei stepped forward, his grin never fading as he approached the young man. "Greetings, Shirou Emiya, and welcome to the Kotomine Church. Have you come here a Master? Or merely a poor sinner seeking God?"

"Do you _really_ have to ask?"

"In a sense," the priest said, walking past Shirou and stepping up to the small altar and picking up the Bible set atop it. He opened the book up to a seemingly random page, and began to read as he spoke. "Truthfully, I already know the answer. But I would be a poor man of God if I did not leave either option open."

"I need to know more about this War," Shirou said, trying his best to avoid the small talk the man was clearly attempting to drag him into. "Especially about the families behind it."

Kirei did not look up from his reading, staring into the small book as though he'd never seen a Bible before. For all Shirou know, maybe he hadn't; he wasn't exactly the most standard priest of all time. "Would not young Rin be a better contact for this? She is, after all, a member of one of the same families. Or perhaps, there is another young lady you could ask, who might know equally as much, if not more. And my sources have indicated she is _very_ close to you..."

Shirou narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how you found out about Sakura, but stop. A Magus family only has one heir, and that would be Shinji. He's the one who had the Servant. So Sakura won't know anything. And Tohsaka and I... are not on the best of terms."

Kirei looked up, his smile giving away less information than a blank wall. "Well, I'm sure you would know better than I, of course."

"Look, you're supposed to help the Masters. So help me," Shirou said. "I know enough about the Tohsaka, but I don't know anything about the Einzberns, and not nearly as much about the Matous as I thought I did. Especially the grandfather..."

Kirei's carefully amused smiled broke for the first time, a barely perceptible wince twisting his mouth. "Zouken, yes. You have met him, then."

"What _is_ he? And... and what has he done to Sakura?" Shirou asked, his voice falling into just above a whisper as he finally allowed himself to admit the worry that Saber had by no means defused. As much as he hated to show anything like vulnerability in front of the priest, the fear for Sakura was like a glacier slowly forming in his stomach.

The priest's eyes glittered, as though he was reading Shirou's mind and found it to be a highly amusing text indeed. "He has given you reason to assume he has done something?"

"She wouldn't have left without saying something. Not unless he made her," Shirou said. "And more than that, I... I looked into his eyes. His real eyes, not the facade he puts on, pretending to be a kind old man."

Kirei actually snorted, and it was a deeply disorienting sound to hear. "It is not much of a facade. Zouken Matou is the Magus who led the Clan Makiri to this land five hundred years ago, and who allowed the clan to fall into decay for his own preservation. He is a parasite latched onto his own family, exploiting them until all that remains of them is a bitter shell feeding on itself in a desperate attempt to survive their own master."

Shirou's eyes widened. "Five... five hundred...?"

"Ah, yes. He hides his age well, does he not?" Kirei asked. Then, considering his words, he said, "Well, perhaps not _that_ well. In a better world he would be dust and ash by now, of course, but then we are so rarely lucky in that regard. Or perhaps it is fortunate! After all, his actions were in part what led to the War you yourself now compete in, and I oversee. So in a sense, we owe our very sense of purpose to a vile, poisonous slug of a man. Fortunate we are indeed!"

The priest's face was smiling, but Shirou could hear the undercurrent of loathing. "You... really hate him, don't you?"

"If you don't, it is only because you don't know it like I do," Kotomine said, brushing a hand idly against his right shoulder, as if an old wound was twinging there. "But enough. You asked about more than Zouken. You wished to know of the Holy Grail War, did you not?"

"Look, I need to know..."

"Such a small-minded young man. If you understand the roots of what is going on, you will understand that your young lady is largely unimportant in the grand scheme," Kirei said. "Matou, Einzbern, Tohsaka. The Holy Grail War is the creation of these three families, as I am sure you have heard by now. Two hundred years ago, they gathered in this land, the Tohsaka's holy ground, and built their ritual, but but that is only scratching the surface. The creation of the Holy Grail was something the Einzberns had struggled toward for long before that, and something they still struggle toward. The path to immortality was something that Zouken Matou seeks with a fervor that can only be called madness. That is what you were missing, Shirou Emiya. You assumed this to be a battle between magi over a simple wish, but it is and always has been the obsession of ancient madmen with power beyond your imagination. A struggle that has lasted for centuries on end, entire families burning themselves down to bloody bones in a mad drive to claim victory at any cost. That is what you have embroiled yourself in, young man. That is what your young lady is already a part of. And why not? You were both born to it!"

Shirou tried to fight back a growing sense of nausea. "You enjoy it. You talk about this whole thing like it's... a game. People are dying and you're having _fun_."

Kirei's smile did not budge one micron. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean. At most, I appreciate the grand scale of what occurs here. Is not the Holy Grail a tool of God? Should not its creation be a momentous occasion?"

"Sure," Shirou said, his tone making it clear he didn't buy this for a heartbeat. "If all you had to tell me was that I was in over my head, I'd worked that out for myself. The three families take this seriously, fine. What I need is some insight on Matou that might help me-"

"Yes, yes. Sakura Matou," Kirei said. "Zouken Makiri owns the girl, and his laboratory is too well-defended for a direct assault by your... limited abilities. Saber, I'm certain, could penetrate the perimeter, if you do not mind the concept of Servants doing battle so close to your young friend, or the possibility that Zouken would not simply kill her the moment the battle began..."

"She's his _family!"_

"And you have no idea how very, very little that means to him. For the moment, Matou holds your friend and you have no leverage to gain her freedom. Perhaps if you had the patronage of one of the other great families, but Tohsaka is opposed to you, and Einzbern of course has so _much_ bad blood with the house of Emiya..."

Shirou blinked.

Kirei smiled. "You do not seem surprised. Perhaps Zouken retains his love of chatting with the opposition?"

Shirou sighed. "You don't need to know. Just get that I don't know anything about the Einzbern family, and I don't know why everyone thinks I would..."

"Oh, it's not that strange, really," the priest said, his tone of one discussing the weather. "I suppose your father wouldn't have told you about his time acting as an agent of the Einzbern clan in the last War, would he?"

Shirou's reaction this time was a bit more extreme than a blink.

* * *

 

Saber sighed, sitting on a bench near the entrance to the church.

As before, she had chosen not to go within. Truthfully, the building simply gave her a sense of deep foreboding. She would have preferred Shirou not go in as well, and at the greatest extremes never, _ever_ go into the building, ever again.

 _At least he is not attacking the Makiri clanhold directly with a hostage on the line,_ Saber thought with a sigh. It wasn't that she doubted her own ability to pierce any defense Zouken had in place, but she liked Sakura. She had sworn to protect the girl. A direct assault on the old monster, if he really was still alive (And she had to assume he was, since Shinji Matou was in all ways too pathetic to extract Sakura so cleanly) would be almost certain to get the poor girl killed, one way or the other.

It was the kind of battle Saber loathed. A straight fight without innocents in the line of fire, soldier against soldier, that was her element. The cloak and dagger world of the magi repelled her...

"Pssssssssssssst! Saber! Over here!"

… Though it did occasionally allow her to see some unique sights.

Saber turned, to see a bush rustling a few yards down the street. She saw a flash of white hair behind the green leaves.

Saber wasn't sure if she should smile or bury her face in her hands. _Surely she would not. It must have been my imagination. I will close my eyes, and when I open them, it will be a normal bush on a normal street._

"Don't _ignore_ me!"

Saber sighed, and walked over to the bush. "Hello, Lady von Einzbern. I see you are well."

"Why didn't you come over the first time?!" Ilya whispered, pushing aside the branches of her hiding bush. She was not actually inside the bush, at the least, just behind it, which was... _slightly_ better. The young girl was wearing, for no reason that Saber could see, a beige trench coat too large for her (It appeared to be caught on one of the branches; Ilya should have picked a less thorny bush), and a pair of dark sunglasses.

"I was hoping you were not the sort of person who would approach me in broad daylight while I am with my Master, who you have stated you wished to remain anonymous from," Saber said solemnly. "My hopes were unfounded."

Ilya frowned. "Do _not_ make fun of me. I came to make sure Shirou's okay. And I knew he'd be here, so I had to do it anonymously."

"... You are a tiny person with white hair and red eyes. You cannot in any way be anonymous."

" _Duh!_ That's why I'm in disguise," Ilya said. She actually sounded as though she thought this was logical reasoning. "Even if Shirou walked out here right now he would just see a mysterious stranger."

"I see," Saber lied. "Lady von Einzbern..."

"You can call me Ilya now that we're a conspiracy," Ilya said.

Saber winced. "I would prefer you not call it that. It makes it sound as though we intend some kind of nefarious activity, when in fact we... well, in truth, I have no idea what we are doing. Or more to the point, what you are doing and have manipulated me into keeping secret for you."

"I'm protecting Shirou, Saber. Try to keep up," Ilya said, pity dripping from her voice.

"But why? You are a Master of Einzbern, despite your youth, and your family has nothing but loathing for the Emiya... clan..." Saber said, her voice trailing off. _Could it be? No, she is far too young. That girl would be Shirou's age by now._

… _But she_ was _always very small for her age..._

"Ilya..." Saber said softly. "Your parents. What were their names?"

Ilya's nose scrunched up. "I don't understand. You already know Mama's name, though I have no idea how. Why are you asking things like that now?"

_Impossible._

But on the other hand...

 _Magi are magi. They often do not make much sense from a logical standpoint. And... it_ would _explain a great deal._

"Ilya..." Saber said softly. "Are you the daughter of Irisviel and... and that man?"

"I don't know any 'that man,'" Ilya said softly. "If you mean Kiritsugu Emiya, then yes."

Saber exhaled a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "I see. That is your interest in Shirou, then. He is..."

"I shouldn't be. Grandpapa wants me to kill him, and frankly, I wanted it at first too," Ilya said sadly, not seeming to notice the way Saber tensed at her words. "But I've been doing a lot of thinking. And it started to make me notice how little I really know about the world. So until I work things out for myself, I'll be handling this my own way, and Shirou... I won't let anyone hurt him. No matter what I have to do."

Saber nodded in sympathy. "Because he is your father's..."

"Because he was nice to me. He was sweet and kind and treated me like I was special when he didn't have any reason to, and he never asked for anything in return. You'd be surprised how rare that is," Ilya cut her off, a small smile touching her lips. "Or... maybe you wouldn't?"

Saber considered that. "He... is an unusual young man. Perhaps not the most... _cunning_ individual..."

" _HA!"_

"But he is pure. He is a good man. This much, I can say for certain," Saber said, a small smile of her own taking shape. "I am proud to be his Servant, and if you are honest about your claims... I am proud to have you as an ally, milady."

Ilya blushed slightly, and pulled her coat up around her face in a vain effort to hide it. "Well. Of course you are! That's just the way it should be. A knight should _always_ be proud to serve the princess. Hahahaha!" she laughed, a slight off-kilter tinge of totally unjustified pride to it.

Saber smiled more openly. The girl was... odd... but she could at least see why Shirou found her endearing. "I am glad you approve, Ilya. But for the moment, you have to realize that the two of us meeting in this location is _extremely_ risky. The other Masters will have eyes everywhere, and we still have no idea where the golden Archer is based from or who is pulling his strings."

Had Saber realized the answer to those concerns was "Thirty feet away" and "the guy in the building thirty feet away", she might have had a lethal irony attack before she even had the chance to break down the door and drag Shirou out by his collar. Fortunately (unfortunately?) she had chosen once again to stay outside.

Ilya sighed. "I know, but... well, I just had to make a _little_ check in, and I had to wait until Shirou was where he wouldn't see you, since we have to be cautious with him. He's _really_ fragile, and kind of silly about his decision-making. But he's just _such_ a sweetheart. I mean, he's a bit like Kiritsugu, I guess, or... at least how I remember Kiritsugu. I don't know if he was like that, I guess. But Shirou is like that way he was, only even nicer! And I'm totally sure that he isn't lying, since there was lots of times for him to have not been nice, and he was nice for all of them, and it was just the greatest thing ev-" Ilya stopped, eyes widening behind her highly inconspicuous sunglasses as something about the conversation pierced her brain. "Wait. How on _Earth_ did you even know anything about me? You're a Servant! I know you're the _right_ Servant, but you're just a copy. You _should_ be just a copy. I guess you could have found out about Pa-Kiritsugu from Shirou, but my _mother_?"

Saber smiled slightly. "Well. If you can have your secrets from Shirou, I can have my secrets from you. Can I not... Ilyasviel?" she asked, the full name of the girl from that old castle finally coming back to her. The girl's forehead scrunched up, indicating her eyes were narrowing in confused annoyance. Saber tried not to laugh. _I_ am _allowed to be the one with the advantage in information on occasion, young lady. Alliance does not mean servitude._

"You..." Ilya muttered. "I don't know what you are, or how you're doing this, but I'm going to find out. I don't like not knowing things. It makes me feel like I'm not knowledgeable."

"Yes, well, we have an..." Saber began.

The door of the church creaked open behind her.

Ilya squeaked, pulling the coat up over her head and actually did jump into the bush this time. Saber sighed, and walked back over to her original seating point, as her Master exited the building, and nodded solemnly at him. "Shirou. Were you able to learn what you needed from the administrator? I never finished my own debriefing from this morning, and there is a _great_ deal of material to go over so we should probably get to someplace secure before..."

"Saber, did you know my father?" Shirou asked, blinking in obvious confusion.

Saber's eyes widened. "Oh. Well."

* * *

 

Shinji walked down the hall, heading for the stairs, and Rider did what she usually did when she was with Shinji: follow him very closely and stare very intently at the back of his neck.

She couldn't see, of course; the band across her eyes was not cosmetic, and it locked down her sight in addition to its other functions. This mattered little: she was, of course, superhuman, and as such her other senses were superhumanly sharp across the board. She could have, had her Master requested such, told him exactly how many students were currently in the hall with them, what gender each was, and what they were planning to have for lunch that day.

She was not going to do this, of course, because she despised Shinji in every way. The boy was, in his own way, perhaps even _worse_ than the Zouken creature. As foul as the old monster was, at the least he was not quite so _petty_. Shinji was a childish, petulant, small-minded little lunatic obsessed with power and pleasures of the flesh, and had it not been for Sakura's incomprehensible affection for him, Rider would have taken dark glee in forcing him to watch as she killed him in lingering agony before eating his soul like a grape.

So instead, she followed him silently, her senses honed on the back of his neck, and thought about how easy it would be to just reach out and snap it.

"Things are finally looking up, Rider," Shinji said with an edge of mania in his voice as he turned into an empty stairwell and started up toward the roof. "I was worried. I admit I was worried. Even when I got you back, that... that giant _thing_! You were clearly no match for it. But Tohsaka... oh, Tohsaka! Her Servant cut it. Fought it! But she must know she can't win on her own either. If we can get her on our side, though, the two of us _together!_ I'm the logical choice for a partner. We go to the same school, she _knows_ me. She can't trust Emiya, she can't trust anyone, so she goes for what she knows. You see, Rider, that's the way you get a wild-hearted bitch like that to see reason. You get her _desperate_. Get a girl desperate enough to save her own skin, and she'll throw herself at your feet every time..."

 _So easy. It would break like a twig,_ Rider thought. Then, out loud, she whispered, "Do not discount me, Master. In a conventional battle with Berserker I am outmatched, but I have yet to use my Noble Phantasm. If I bring that power to bear..."

"Then you should have _done_ it instead of _whining_ about it!" Shinji snarled. "Now keep your mouth shut. I won't have Tohsaka thinking I can't control my own slave."

He could have said 'Servant,' Rider knew. It would have been less demeaning. But she was hardly shocked by Shinji attempting to make her feel controlled despite his absolute inability to do so without Rider's own consent. Still, she fell obediently silent. The boy had a crazed edge to his behavior since he had reclaimed the false Command Seal that let him act as her Master, and pushing him too far might well have led to further abuse heaped on Sakura, and if that got too intense, Rider would have to ignore her oath to the girl long enough to tear Shinji's lungs out. Sakura would be (for some reason) devastated by this, and might well break her contract with Rider in response. She couldn't have that.

Shinji smiled like a shark, and said, "All right. Show time."

He was more correct than he knew.

Shinji was not a Magus. He tried to be one, but above and beyond lacking the talent he didn't really understand all that it entailed; the pain, the sacrifice of both emotional and physical well-being, the endless hours of study and isolation for a thankless existence. He did, however, know the basics. Among them, that magic was to be kept absolutely secret from the mundane world. No Master in the Holy Grail War, he knew... he _knew!_... would start a battle in the middle of the day, at a public location like the school. Not unless they had some way to be _certain_ there were no witnesses, such as his own plans for the Bloodfort Rider generated.

It hadn't really occurred to him, because respect for another's intellect was not something he had an excessive amount of, that Rin Tohsaka definitely knew that he knew this.

And it had also not occurred to him that Rin was the sort to play just a tiny bit fast and loose with the 'no witnesses' rule.

She didn't _see_ any witnesses on the roof. That was good enough for her.

Shinji opened the door, and stepped out. She smiled at him, her grin promising much that made his skin tingle. And then she snapped her fingers and said, " _Illuminierung,"_ the trigger word for the tiny glyph she had inscribed on the roof earlier that morning, after sneaking into school at five AM to have some alone time. The glyph exploded silently, letting off a wave of light that outshone the sun by an several orders of magnitude. Rin had looked away and closed her eyes before it went off, as she had known it was coming.

Shinji, however, had issues.

" _Gaaaaah!_ " he screamed, his eyes clamping shut just a second too late, the searing white light burning into them. He clapped his hands over his eyes, twisting around to try to get back to the stairs, only to slam into the side of the door and end up grasping blindly at his newly bleeding nose.

Rider, of course, had no problems with this. But unfortunately for Rin, she also had no problem with something as simple as a flash bomb. Her blindfold may have been an annoyance in some ways, but in others it offered her an edge... ploys to blind were meaningless. It was a shame, the Tohsaka girl seemed amusing. But Shinji had to be defended, for Sakura's sake. And without a proper Master, Rider had to admit that devouring the mana of a talented young magus _did_ sound good. Like water after being in the desert for a month...

She leaped past Shinji, materializing as she did and crossing the space of the roof to Rin in an eyeblink... and just barely avoided having her head taken off by the first arrow, spinning to swat it aside and flipping backwards to avoid the next five that came half a breath behind it.

Archer. Of course.

Rider wove between the streaks of silver, admiring despite herself the man's accuracy. Rin had burst into a sprint for Shinji as soon as Rider's first charge had been repelled, leaving her between him and the the Servant, and yet Archer managed to keep up suppressing fire on Rider while somehow missing his Master with every shot. She would have sworn some of the arrows were _curving_ around the young Magus.

Rider sighed. She really had not wanted to do this, but she was being pushed back through sheer volume of arrows, and the Tohsaka magus was probably going to kill Shinji. Rider had no moral problem with this, but she found herself in the unenviable position of making sure that didn't happen. She reached up, going for the visor, preparing to show her eyes...

She something made a 'clink' sound beneath her legs. She looked down, seeing the gem that Rin had thrown as she ran, most likely trusting Archer's arrows to control the battlefield enough that Rider would be where it landed.

Rider almost smiled. _Clever brat,_ she thought, just before the small stone exploded in a gale that sent her _flying..._

* * *

 

Shinji blinked, dark spots still filling his eyes, though the sheer rage was driving them out and replacing them with red quickly enough. Had he been wiser, he would have thrown himself backwards, rolled down the stairs. As long as he took care to protect his head and neck, he wouldn't have taken any serious wounds, and students below, despite the bustle of lunch hour, had noticed some of the noise above them. A boy falling down the stairs and screaming for help would have ended the fight then and there, cutting off Rin's advantage.

Shinji was not that wise. He fumbled blindly in his coat pocket, and pulled out the Tome of the False Attendant, flickers of black energy already leaping from the runes on it. He blinked once more to clear his eyes and aim...

Just in time to see his first clear sight since the trap-glyph went off: the heel of Rin's hand about to slam into the bridge of his nose.

Hard.

His head snapped back, pain and shock replacing anger as the darkness behind his eyes was replaced by a flash of white. A hand like iron clamped onto his wrist and _twisted_...

 _The book...!_ Shinji thought through the haze of madness and agony that had become his world. The Tome, his treasure, his escape from mediocrity, slipped from his fingers...

His vision, still blurry, cleared just enough to see the absolutely malicious grin on Rin Tohsaka's face. A malevolence he had never seen in her before, more snarl than smile, but still showing an obvious joy, and that was when he knew. He didn't know how she knew, or why she cared, but somehow the instinct just clicked and he could _see_ Sakura reflected in those glittering, furious eyes...

" _Help!"_ Rin screamed, injecting false terror into her voice. _"Matou-kun fell down the stairs and hit his head!"_

And then she spun, pulling his arm over her shoulder, and threw him.

* * *

 

Rin picked up the book, ran toward the edge of the roof leading to the empty field behind the school, and jumped. "Archer, handle the landing, please," she said coolly as she fell, and true to form, her Servant's arms wrapped around her and carried her safely to the ground. She hadn't stopped to see if Shinji was alive, but it didn't really matter. The people would be too worried about his injury to wonder who had screamed for help, and even if he was coherent enough to talk, he could hardly explain what had happened without risking an Association combat Magus coming for his head. Even if he survived, he was neutralized as a threat for the foreseeable future.

"Rider will be back soon. Did it w-" he began.

"Hush, I need to concentrate," Rin said, the Tohsaka crest blowing on her arm. The sigil on the front of the book began to glow in sympathy, going from black to bright green. Rin screamed and fell to her knees as all her nerve endings lit up with agony, like her blood had been replaced with molten lead...

Archer cursed. "Rin, put the book down! We'll burn it, that's good enough for n-"

" _No!_ " Rin shrieked, blue-green light continuing to flow from her crest into the book clamped into her hand. _"It's working, I know it's..._ "

Rider leaped over the top of the school, and landed in the dirt next to them, a ring of dust kicking up around her. Archer stepped between them, Kanshou and Bakuya materializing in his hands. Rin fell forward, collapsing atop the small tome, her skin pale and clammy, her breath coming in short, pained gasps. The crest on her arm went dull and vanished back into invisibility beneath her sweater.

"You _sure_ you want to do this, Rider?" Archer growled, making sure his body offered no easy shot at the prone Rin.

"I don't know," Rider replied softly. "Would you like me to, Master?"

Archer's eyes widened, and he turned his gaze to Rin. She looked small, and pale, and impossibly exhausted.

But she looked up at him, and smiled. "We win," she whispered hoarsely, grabbing on to Archer to drag herself shakily to her feet.

"The Holy Grail War. Archer... we win."


	20. Aggressive Negotiations

_How do you feel, Rin?_ Archer asked.

 _Stop worrying, mother hen,_ Rin thought, actually happy for the first time in a _long_ time. _As long as you both stay in astral form, it isn't so bad. I think the only real issue comes when you both have to operate at the same time, that's when the mana drain starts to get to be more than I can handle._

Rin was, of course, a genius. She was hardly going to be modest about that. And as such, she had experimented heavily with her new toy. The book acted as a combination of Command Seal and a link to Rider's magic circuits, allowing mana to be extracted from or (though Shinji had lacked the equipment) inserted into them. Once Rin had gotten her hands on it and flooded it with her own prana, the link between her and Rider had been forged, and as long as she had it, she was essentially Rider's Master so long as the _real_ Master didn't choose to override it.

Rin had a lot of mana to spare. One Servant was well within her powers and didn't even really cut them by all that much, at least not during the War when the Grail system acted as a bolster. Two, however, posed a problem. As powerful as she was, keeping both Archer and Rider active at the same time acted as a Hell of a strain. It would be better later, when she wasn't tired from forging the initial connection, but best case scenario, she still believed that having both Rider and Archer active and in combat at once would leave her unable to use any magic of her own.

Worst case scenario, it would make blood gush out her nose and ears, but she was hoping it wouldn't come that far.

For now, though, she was pleased with the results. Her initial claims of ultimate victory might have been a tad premature (she had been excited, so sue her), but she had at least gained a lot of versatility from this play. Rider and Archer had vastly differing specialties and combat styles, and she could have either one of them active at full power at any given moment. If one was injured, she could astralize them and send the other out immediately. She could send them both out at half-power, maybe even go so high as two-thirds, without doing serious harm to herself; sometimes two smaller powers were more use than a single big one. And, as a last resort, well, she could always see how long she could handle both going full-throttle at the same time.

Probably not long.

… Definitely longer than Emiya could. So _ha-ha-ha._

Still, there was one major issue that she could only put off for so long, above and beyond the mana situation. Once she got home, she would have to think this one over very careful—

 _I follow you for the moment because that book gives you power,_ Rider's soft, deep voice whispered into her mind. _But my true Master gave it to Shinji. You may have hijacked the spell that gave it shape, but it is still hers, and she will not be happy that you stole it._

Ah. So Rider didn't want to wait, then.

 _I know that. And trust me, I have a plan for dealing with her,_ Rin replied. This was only semi-true... she had a plan to come _up_ with a plan for dealing with Sakura. But it shouldn't be too hard; she had plenty to offer the girl, after all. The key point in negotiation was to approach from a position of strength, and she was there already. Shouldn't be too hard to work out a carrot Sakura would be most baited by. _She'll be on board soon, and then you and I will be great friends, I think._

 _And if she refuses?_ Rider asked.

 _Then I will use this Command Seal before she destroys it. I don't want to hurt her, so I'll just have you kill yourself._ Rin thought back, iron lining her mind. She paused for several long seconds, her breath bated. If she had just pissed the Servant off, something might have gone very wrong here, but the way that Rider had just abandoned Shinji like garbage the second the book switched hands made her _hope..._

She could feel Rider's small smile in her mind. _That will do._

Rin let out a long, relieved breath. Every once in awhile, you got a Servant who really, really valued their Master. Usually it was the silly noble ones, like Saber (Rin took a moment, then, to mourn the fact that none of this would have been at all necessary if she had gotten her hands on that one... they would have just been _such_ a flawless team it almost made her cry), but apparently Rider was in the same boat. She had suspected as much, seeing the way Rider regarded Shinji. She clearly loathed him, but hadn't taken the time to stab him in the back and go back to Sakura when she clearly could have; Shinji was far too proud of himself to see a betrayal coming from someone he considered 'property.' The only reason Rin could see for Rider to act this way was if Sakura wanted it that way, for whatever reason. Rider was loyal to Sakura. She wanted what was best for her.

Well, that was fine, since Rin was actually telling the truth. She had no intention of harming Sakura; quite the opposite, actually. Even a few minutes of pondering made that carrot clearer and clearer.

 _Well,_ she thought chipperly, a tiny skip entering her step, _I'm glad we got that covered. So, here's how we're going to run this. For the next hour or so, we're going to spend ever so much time talking about all sorts of things, Rider. Things like the Matou manor, and their defenses, and anything you know about Zouken and his movements and abilities._

_And then I'm going to take you on a test drive._

* * *

 

The walk back to the Emiya household was a silent one.

The topic that Shirou wished to bring up, sadly, was not one for errant ears. Saber had rather been hoping to never actually talk it over with him... they had not talked over the subject of Kiritsugu a great deal, but even from snippets it was not terribly hard to work out that the boy clearly idolized his father.

Saber... had not shared this sentiment.

She was not sure how or why, but Kiritsugu Emiya had clearly changed, drastically, in the time since she had met him. And telling his devoted son this had not been a prospect she had looked forward to, so she had planned to simply keep it to herself and ignore the Emiya clans issues in favor of focusing on the War.

Naturally, life was choosing to not allow this. Sometimes, Saber pondered if it did these things to her on purpose, if she was some kind of universal chewtoy. But she supposed it could have been worse. She could have been on fire.

Still, as she sat in the Emiya household kitchen, listening to Shirou make a meal, she found for the first time that she was not terribly looking forward to him sitting down at the table with the finished food.

He did so, and she barely even smelled it. "I was cooking," he said, "Because it clears my head, and my head needed clearing."

"I assumed. However, I fear I will not be able to clear anything up to your satisfaction, Master... the situation is more complicated than you believe, and I do not believe that knowing it will bring you anything like peace," Saber said softly. "Truthfully, I would have advised against you going, had I known the overseer of the War was aware of the Servants and Masters who fought in the last War. Most particularly... Kiritsugu Emiya. Your father."

"Foster father. He pulled me out of a fire... I was the only survivor. He saved my life, took me in. Gave me a home, a family. Taught me everything I have that's worth knowing."

"Yes," Saber said with a sigh. "Which is why I have such a hard time believing it is the same man I knew. Kiritsugu Emiya... he entered the War as a mercenary. An assassin in the service of the Einzbern Magus family. He was cold, aloof, ruthless. In all ways a perfect magus, with one exception. He..."

She paused, searching for the words, before deciding that at this point, bluntness was the only real recourse. Shirou would accept, or he would not. "He was broken. He was not a magus who was raised into the coldness and cruelty, but someone who was twisted into it by life. I could see that much."

Shirou sighed, rubbing his temples. "That can't be right. It... it has to be someone else, doesn't it? Anyone else. You can't be thinking of the same man."

"The fire, Shirou," Saber said gently. "The one he found you in. It was caused by the final battle of the War. I was battling Archer, the last remaining Servant besides myself, while Kiritsugu fought his Master. I do not know the details of their duel, but I know Kiritsugu emerged victorious, because only he returned alive after the fire started in their confrontation spread to the city. And that was when he betrayed me."

"Betrayed...?"

"With his third and final Command Seal, as the Grail was within our grasp, Kiritsugu ordered me to draw my blade and destroy it," Saber said, the bitterness of that memory still bringing a sour taste to her mouth. "I do not know why, nor did I care at the time. I merely hated him beyond anything I can describe. I was so close, and... and..."

She sighed. "It does not matter anymore. Suffice to say, yes: I knew your father. And no, it has nothing to do with you."

Shirou rubbed his temples and sank into the chair, groaning in frustration. "Well... it is something I should have known. But it doesn't explain a thing about those swords, or that woman, or..."

"Woman?"

"Ah. Um. When I was unconscious, after I... um... made swords," Shirou said, for lack of a better term. "I saw a woman. I can't remember her too clearly, but she talked about my father, and someone I had to protect... it was probably just a hallucination, but it _felt_ real. It's probably stupid."

"Do you remember what she looked like?" Saber asked, softly. _It couldn't be. But... that girl is her child, and she was_ hardly _a normal woman by any stretch of the imagination. Could some fragment of her have been preserved inside Ilyasviel after all?_

Shirou sighed. "No. I didn't really see her face. And what's worse, I was falling in and out of it the whole time, seeing little chunks of what was happening to you too. That black thing... a golden sword that shone like the sun... a man with cold, red eyes..." he smiled sadly. "A lot of little things that don't make any sense. Just flashes that burned through my brain even when I couldn't really understand them."

Saber smiled slightly. "Well, I _did_ want to debrief you, but you were in such a hurry..."

Shirou rolled his eyes and pushed the steaming dish of beef and rice over to her. "Here. Consider it penance. Now tell me what's going on?"

Saber nodded agreeably, her nerves cooling somewhat. Shirou didn't seem to be terribly upset with her for keeping her connection to his father from him; which she supposed was fair, given that he had not asked, and in the end it had not been terribly relevant. _Unless the little princess really has altered things more than I thought._ "Well, let us begin at the beginning..."

She shared with Shirou what little she could share on the weapons he created, which was not a great deal, but enough to make him look at his hands like he had never seen them before. Such projection was not impossible for a magus, but it should have required some kind of template to base the weapon on, and should not have been solid enough to repel Lancer's spear. Unfortunately, as she was no magus herself, there was little enough she could share on that. On the other factors, however...

"The black creature you remember, I believe to be some kind of curse. I do not know the details, but Il—" she caught herself barely in time; violating oaths was not something she would do if she could all avoid it. Inconvenient, but she was a knight and this was not going to change. "-it's connection to Lancer and the way it sought me out specifically suggest it is somehow connected to the Holy Grail. I believe Zouken Matou was aware of it as well, so I think it likely it is connected to his machinations. At the very least, he knows more of it than I do, and he is certainly hostile to us, so we should consider him a priority target if we get the chance to destroy him without endangering Sakura."

There! Informative, and yet leaving out anything that might give away the Lady Einzbern. Saber felt she was doing rather well at this subterfuge thing, and she didn't even have sunglasses.

"Okay, that makes sense," Shirou said. "I didn't see it, really, but I... it was more like I felt it. Like it was just this... endless void drawing everything in. I'm not sure, but... well, it would make sense, at least, if it were the reason people were hemorrhaging life energy all over town. Does that make sense to you?"

Saber blinked. She hadn't considered it, but... "Potentially. From what I've pieced together from Shinji's general vileness, and Rin's bizarre antics, it seems that the source of that effect is the Ryudou Temple, correct? The entire mountain is a powerful, mystical location. If that shadow-creature is the result of a magical ritual, that _would_ be an ideal location to cast it from."

Shirou nodded. "Well, we have to patrol either way. We might as well start there tonight. If we can stop that energy drain, we can save a lot of people all at once. It seems the best tactic to me, anyway."

Saber winced. "I... do not disagree. But that Shadow is dangerous, Shirou. Please understand the immensity of what you are asking... my Noble Phantasm drove it off, but that is a very limited-use ability, and it did not permanently destroy it. That alone should be proof that this creature is a dangerous, possibly immortal curse. Destroying it may be beyond our abilities."

Shirou nodded. "I understand. But we have to try, don't we? If nothing else, I trust you'll be able to deal with anything thrown at you. I've seen you do some amazing things, Saber."

Both a bit annoyed and unreasonably pleased at the compliment, Saber found herself reacting with mixed blushing and wincing, which she imagined looked rather odd. She tried to hide it by taking a bite of her meal. "Yes. Well. Your confidence is appreciated..."

"Appreciated enough you'll tell me the name of your sword now?" Shirou teased.

"... but it also puts a great deal of pressure on me," Saber finished coyly.

"No fun."

"As for the man with red eyes that you saw," Saber said, pausing briefly to take a few more bites (It might have been simple beef stew and rice, but Shirou made it _damn well_ ), "he is perhaps even more problematic. Like myself, he was a Servant in the previous War. He took on the role of Archer in that conflict, and it was he I fought at the very end, among the flames."

"... Wait, what?"

"I do not know how he is still alive, his identity, or truly anything of value about him," Saber admitted. "Merely that he is _powerful_. Your father was a... forgive me my rudeness... much more accomplished magus than yourself. Under his command, I was close to the height of my power, and yet I could only manage to fight this Archer to a draw before we were forced apart. I never won a decisive battle against him. I do not know if I could. Our last battle only ended because his Master was mortally wounded, and we were separated before he could find a new one. He _should_ have faded away with the destruction of the incomplete Holy Grail... yet he has not. I can tell you little else, I fear."

Shirou's eyes widened. "Oh. Hell."

"Indeed. Compounding this is the fact his personality is... troublesome at best, horrific at worst," Saber said in a long-suffering tone. "And he is oddly fixated on me, and not particularly bothered with the concept of sanity. He has other goals at the moment, but he _will_ come for us eventually, and when he does... it will not go well."

"So... another big obstacle then. Great," Shirou said. "Well, not a lot we can do about it now. We'll have to hope he doesn't show up when we're at the Temple, then."

Saber considered this. "Or, we could try feeding him to the Shadow, perhaps giving it indigestion which will allow our victory to proceed more smoothly."

"... Not funny, Saber," Shirou said, smiling despite himself.

"Of course, Master," Saber agreed, eyes twinkling. "May I have another helping, if possible? There are many hours until nightfall, and..."

"I made two pots."

"Your wisdom grows by the day, Master."

* * *

 

It was nearly night when she finally got the call she was expecting.

Sakura stepped into the basement of the manor for the second time, ignoring the worm pit as best she was able. Her heart was pounding in her chest as a spike of fear went down her spine. No matter how many times she faced him, there was always that brief moment of terror when she came before her grandfather.

" _Sit_ ," the voice of Zouken said, emanating from many mouths throughout the whole of the loathesome chamber said, the flickering candlelight illuminating an old wooden chair set up above the pit. Without a word, Sakura did as she was told.

" _You wonder" "Why" "You are here?"_ the voice of the legion said, her grandfather's voice times a million, each cluster of words emanating from a different corner of the basement. As she watched, a thousand of the worms came together into a larger pile; Grandfather had been sleeping, apparently. He would be there in person soon, once his body was ready to move again.

"I wonder why I am home, sir. I thought you didn't care what happened to me. I thought as long as Shinji had Rider I was not needed for the War," she said obediently. There was no point in lying to Grandfather, he always knew. She had learned long ago to simply tell the truth, at all times, since he saw through every single lie, no matter how clever.

… Well, to be fair, she couldn't be _completely_ sure of that. It wasn't as though he had ever said anything about it. But she firmly suspected simply based on the fact the sessions always hurt more after she'd hidden something. Grandfather had all too many ways of getting his point across non-verbally.

A mouth opened on the mass of writhing worms, her grandfather's smirk. " _I had thought it to be true. I was wrong. Things have changed. You have suddenly become an even more important game piece than I believed you to be. "_

Sakura blinked. "You want me to take Rider back? I can't, you know that. Even if I took her back from Shinji, the Crest Worm stops me from using her in battle for any length of time."

The figure shrugged, slugs falling off suddenly human shoulders, and Zouken smiled. "Oh, my dear, my dear. You have always been of more use than a common Master. But do not worry... what I need from you is much simpler than you believe it to be. There is no need for you to enter into battle, or anything so childish as that. All I need you to do... is sleep."

Sakura blinked in confusion at his words, before feeling the tug of the Crest Worm in her heart. A sharp pain filled her chest for a few seconds, causing her to fall forward out of the old chair, but it was followed in short order by an intense fatigue that filled her whole body, as though iron weights had been strapped to every inch of her, and her brain felt suddenly as though it was wrapped in a thick cloth. Her vision blurred, then went black and red around the edges...

 ** _Foolish old man has a death wish, then?_** She heard in her mind, just before her eyes finally closed and consciousness vanished into the void.

Zouken watched with a smile as the shadows in the corner of the room grew, running together, veins of blood-red beginning to run through them before they finally coalesced into the familiar form of his prized, if somewhat _unpredictable_ of late, familiar.

It was time, then, to remind it who it belonged to.

From the depths of the Shadow, a very smug, female voice echoed through the chamber. " _So. In my day, magi who lived to be as old as you had a much better sense of self-preservation. But then again, that was a better world in general."_

"Welcome to my home, Servant Caster," Zouken said, inclining his head as the woman stepped from the pool of darkness, her solid black eyes glittering in the torchlight. "May I offer you something to drink?"

Without a word, Caster raised her hand sent a bolt of jet-black flame roaring directly through Zouken's chest. The flames spread through his aged flesh like it was made of tinder, leaving the decrepit body as nothing but a pile of ash in less than five writhing, agonized seconds.

" _That was" "Both rude and" "Incredibly pointless."_ said the voice of the old magus, emanating from every corner of the crypt. " _Now I need to" "Secure another body and" "that one was" "nearly brand-new."_

Caster shrugged, her smile unconcerned. "I have been dealing with an unruly dog for the last day, and had frustration to take out on something. I confess, simply killing every single one of your loathsome slugs and leaving you a disembodied wraith fading away into history was not quite the pleasantly ironic way I had _hoped_ to punish you for your sins, old man, but it has a certain appeal. Perhaps Lancer had a point about the direct approach after all. Ever since your little pet became my little pet, I confess the violence _has_ been exhilarating."

" _It's to be" "expected, for even an anti-hero" "such as yourself to be" "touched by the root of all sin..."_ the old magus chuckled from a thousand throats, not one of them remotely made for the sound. " _It's the same as you" "isn't it?" "Just a broken puppet" "made of darkness and" "loss that thinks it is a person."_

Caster's eyes narrowed. "Hardly a grandfatherly perspective. To say such hideous things about your own flesh and blood, stolen though it might be... you remind me of a man I once knew. Though _he_ was at least handsome, for all his other many, many flaws."

" _Oh, silly little" "puppet, I speak of Sakura and" "yet I do not. You will" "come to learn soon enough, as we" "begin to work together." "Such wonders I have" "to show to you, dear Caster."_

" _..._ Hahahahaha... _hahahahahahahahahahahaha!"_ Caster laughed, a full-bodied, body-shaking chuckle, leaving her holding her sides in genuine mirth. "Oh! Oh, p-please, don't do that again! Oh, my, and people say magi have no sense of humor..."

" _Ha." "Ha." "Ha."_ Zouken said.

Caster's eyes widened, and she fell to her knees, the influx of mana that allowed her to maintain her body cutting off suddenly, weakness filling her body, as though her limbs had become lead. She had enough power to survive on her own for some time, obviously, but the sudden loss of the external flow was a shock indeed. The Shadow, from its tranquil state, began to flail in agony, releasing a keening, inhuman wail. "What have you done?!"

" _What a shame" "isn't it," "when such a fragile Master" "gets caught in the line of fire?"_

Her eyes wide with horror, the Servant turned her eyes to Sakura. The girl was still asleep, of course, and in fact did not appear to be moving...

_Oh, Gods, no._

… _o_ r breathing. Her skin had gone ashen, and a thin line of blood leaked from her nose and ears. And under her skin, something was _writhing_...

" _It is a shame, she" "was almost perfect. But if" "her existence is going to cause" "me such inconvenience," "it is probably best to" "start over later."_

"No! You can't just-!"

" _Can." "Will." "Unless you" "fall into line."_

" ** _NOW."_** The command reverberated throughout the old house, every twisted familiar in that pit speaking in unison, a roar so deep it made Caster's bones vibrate.

Caster's face was twisted into a primal snarl of absolute rage, captured magic snapping between her fingers like angry snakes. "You... you think that you can just...! I will _burn you_ down to _nothingness_ you **_animal_**!"

" _Really? You will" "kill every piece of my soul" "before your contract expires?" "Or will you calm down, and" "realize that your Master's life" "is mine to take as I will? Submit, and" "I may be merciful. What I seek" "could be of great value to" "a Servant as well. But only a Servant wise enough to" "know her place."_

For some time, the only sound in the room was the chittering of the worms, and the hissing of flames in Medea's hands. Then, after several long, painful minutes. Caster lowered her arms, the light fading from her hands. "Release her. And... we will talk. Once you take on a new body. I grow weary of the screeching of slime-covered leeches."

There was no human face to smirk, but the expression came through in the voice of the swarm as they hissed, " _Return to the void. I will call for you soon."_

Caster waited briefly, watching to be sure he had kept his word; the unconscious Sakura coughed lightly, barely stirring in her sleep, but as she watched the color flooded back into the girl's cheek. With the barest nod of affirmation, she stepped back into the swirling Shadow, and the writhing black pool slipped back into the cracks of the floor and vanished into nothingness, leaving not even a stain on the stones.

The worms writhed, awaiting the final setting of the sun, when they would be free to hunt a new body for the elder mage. His consciousness rested, secure in the knowledge he had won.

* * *

 

Zouken thought he had won.

Zouken thought he was in control.

Because that was what Caster _wanted_ him to think. The threat to Sakura, she had not foreseen, but in the end, it was something she could turn to her advantage. Let the old magus think her brought to heel, leashed by the danger to her Master. For now, she would bide her time, study his methods further, gain even more information on the nature of the new power she had become a part of. With time and careful study, who knew? She might even discern the method to keeping Lancer under firmer control. Yes, this could be a great asset, despite the indignity.

And when Sakura came into her own, finally took on her _true_ power... nothing that Zouken Matuou thought and planned would matter in the slightest.

The girl slept, and even as Caster slipped back into the darkness in her soul, she made sure the girl dreamed.

* * *

 

Sakura blinked, and opened her eyes... before rolling them. "Again?"

She knew she was not where she had been when she fell asleep. She had passed out on the cold stone floor of the family crypt, and now she woke up in perhaps the most lavishly beautiful bed she had ever seen. A deep blue canopy overhead, silk sheets, a down comforter, and enough space to fit an entire slumber party if she so chose. Truthfully, she wanted nothing so much as to close her eyes and go right back to sleep, it was so comfortable.

She actually giggled, snuggling deeper into the sheets. _If this is her new idea of a Satanic temptation, I have to admit she's getting better at it. Better than that silliness about ruling the world, anyway..._

"It wasn't silliness, my dear," an amused feminine voice said, making Sakura squeak and jump halfway out of her skin. "And I have nothing to do with Satan, thank you. I prefer to deal in gods that actually give some benefit."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the blue-haired woman sitting at the edge of the bed, smiling gently. She was wearing nothing but a soft, mostly translucent shift that hid very, very little and accentuated what it did, which for some reason made Sakura feel a little uncomfortable. It wasn't as though Medea had anything she didn't see on herself when she took a bath, of course, but between the setting and oddly... skimpy outfit, the whole situation just seemed a _little_ like the woman was...

Wait.

Moving aside the covers, Sakura looked down at what she herself was wearing. She then turned bright red and squeaked again in dismay upon seeing a few strategically placed straps of of sheer violet silk and not much else, and moved the covers back.

Medea giggled, a musical sound (and the motion did some interesting things to her chest, not that Sakura was looking). "You don't like it? I thought it brought out your eyes nicely."

"It's the _size_ of my eyes!" Sakura muttered, wrapping the blankets around herself like a protective cocoon. "I was wearing a sweater. Please give it back."

"Why? You have an amazing figure, dear. Would you put a sheet over the Mona Lisa?" Medea said, laughter still filling her voice and making Sakura _very_ uncomfortable and slightly annoyed, in that order.

"The Mona Lisa doesn't have to go outside," she countered.

"You're dreaming. Nobody will see but me," Medea said. "And since I'm afraid I'll need to see more, I don't think that's a problem?"

"What? Isn't this just another one of your... your weird visions, where you try to tell me what I could do?" Sakura asked, blinking in confusion. She had thought she had worked this out fairly well. She 'woke up' in the dream, remembered, Medea would give her some silly notions of what she might do if she had Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, and then she would wake up in the real world and forget it all. But then, this was the first time she'd woken up in these dreams dressed as a harem girl with a mostly naked woman smiling at her (And _why_ did she keep _smiling?_ ). It sent some... odd signals.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. You couldn't take it," Medea said calmly.

"E-eh? What does that mean?"

"What I mean, dear heart, is that your mana supplies are, despite my best efforts, critically low. I am supplementing as best I can your... other half, but I'm afraid the appetite is rather limitless there. And as an unfortunate result, I have neglected the true self. You gave much to Rider, and cannot regain it on your own thanks to your grandfather's meddling. I have prevented you from feeling the effects, but trust me: they are there."

Sakura narrowed her eyes. "Suuuuuuure."

Medea sighed, and twitched one finger lightly, and oh _God_ it was not pleasant. A rushing wave of deathly chill and unbearable heaviness in her limbs, like her bones had turned to lead. The familiarity of it was obvious enough: it was how she had felt only a few days ago, when she'd ended up passing out in her sister's arms. She had _thought_ she simply had sufficient mana to overcome the weakness thanks to Rider staying in astral form, but...

" _That_ is what you actually feel like. What I've been keeping from your conscious mind. Do you believe me now?" the sorceress asked dryly.

"I... I think so," Sakura said, gasping for air and still crushing the blankets closer to herself for some relief from the residual cold. She had grown so used to the numbing ache of the Crest Worm, she had thought herself able to handle pain fairly well, but this was not something even she could shrug off. "So... so you want to heal me? I didn't think anyone could."

"Not... precisely," Medea said delicately. "The only one who can heal you, I'm afraid, is you. If you claim your full power, then even removing that vile thing from your heart will be simple enough for the goddess that results."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "You said you weren't doing that pitch this time."

Medea gave that musical giggle again, and said, "No, no. A different pitch this time, I think. I know you don't particularly like the clothing I chose for you..."

"I wouldn't call it 'clothing'."

"... but," the woman continued, as if Sakura had not spoken, "It was not really intended so much for fashion as, say, ease-of-access. As I am afraid that transferring directly into a human's magic circuits is a bit more complicated than an extended mana formation, we shall have to take more..."

She leaned in, licking her lips, an odd light in her eyes.

" _Direct_ approach."

The kiss was long, and soft, and Sakura was far, far too flustered to either return or push it away, so she just kind of froze and let it happen. She could feel a sudden heat running up the entire length of her body, but centering on... well... _areas_.

 _This should not be so embarrassing. It is not new. Why am I acting like a sheltered schoolgirl?!_ She thought furiously to herself in the small part of her brain that was still acting rationally. This was not, unfortunately, the part the controlled her body, which was alternately running overdrive and totally frozen.

Medea chose to take this as encouragement, apparently ( _I didn't encourage anything!_ ), because she leaned in deeper, her fingers pushing aside the blankets to trace Sakura's curves, fingernails lightly scraping and sending shivers down her spine. Her entire body felt too hot, and too tight, and incredibly sensitive to every tiny stimulation, most particularly the petal-soft lips that moved against her own in such _interesting_ ways...

A soft hand lightly brushed aside the fabric covering her breasts, and that finally seemed to shock her free. She fell backward onto soft pillows, gasping for air, a hand across her chest to preserve what little modesty she had left, and she managed to squeak out, "Wh-what are you...?!"

Medea just continued to smile that enigmatic smile, and slipped her shift off, letting it fall into a silken puddle on the floor before she crawled forward to perch on her hands and knees above Sakura. "I thought that was obvious."

Sakura shook her head, attempting to clear it, and said, "N-now, wait. I mean... well, you... I don't really _know_ you, and... I mean... this... ahhh...!"

This last, it must be noted, was because Medea had leaned into begin suckling softly at the side of her neck, her strong hands brushing Sakura's arm away from her chest to begin softly kneading.

Sakura tried, very, very hard, to protest again. It was just that speaking was really, really not easy, and it was _very_ hot in here, and quite suddenly even the tiny slip of fabric still covering her body felt like too much, and... and...

"Sakura," Medea said softly, as she traced her lips lightly along Sakura's neck, her hands continuing their gentle rhythm, as the girl writhed beneath her. "This is a seduction, not a rape. There is one other option we could pursue, though it's less pleasant. I will stop, if you want me to. Do you want me to?"

She _should_ have told the woman to stop, the single tiny spark of resistance in her knew. There were many good reasons to turn this down, and only one, fairly lousy reason, to keep going.

Medea's hand slipped beneath the covers, and beneath the final piece of fabric on Sakura's body, as a pair of a soft lips found her left breast. The girl arced her back and let out a sound that was more primal moan than any sort of word. The Servant smiled, taking this as the obvious, and began to move her lips lower...

"W-wait, please..."

It was a barely above a whisper, almost inaudible compared to the blissful moan that had preceded it, but it still caused Medea to stop and look up, blinking in obvious confusion, her lips still lightly pressed to the girl's body. "Are you sure?" she asked in clear disappointment. She had been rather enjoying herself, frankly.

"You... you can't just... wait. Just wait. Let me _think_ for a second," Sakura begged.

"... If you wish. There is legitimately no trap here. I'm doing this for your own good, I swear," Medea said. "If you just lay back..."

"Get your hand out of my... my... you know. And let me think," Sakura said, a bit more firmly. The blue-haired woman sighed, and slid off the girl, sitting back cross-legged and pouting. Sakura would have laughed at the petulant act if her head hadn't been so muddled.

She sat up, and gathering what little dignity one could when one was was still panting in exertion and wearing only a thin layer of sweat and a purple silk thong (she wasn't sure where the other strips had ended up, and frankly thinking about the process of them being removed didn't help her mental state) she said, "Now. What did you do wrong, here?"

"... Are you quite serious?" Medea asked.

"Not at all," Sakura said primly, which was kind of an odd tone for her to take when her bare breasts were, and there really wasn't another word for it, heaving with each breath she took. "You did something very wrong here, and please tell me what."

"I didn't do a thing. You need this to survive. I offered you the most pleasant way to do it. Even took the time to seduce you into it when I could... _and I could_... have simply forced you. I offered you a choice," Medea said flatly, her tone so childishly annoyed that Sakura very nearly laughed again. "Is there _nothing_ that makes you behave rationally? You are... the most _vexing_ girl."

"You offered me a choice you didn't give me any time to consider."

"That's more than your brother gives you, or your grandfather!"

"I know," Sakura said, taking the other woman's face in her hands. "Which is why it's so important. Medea... this is the first time I was _ever_ given a choice. And if you... you give it, and then don't let me _use_ it, you're not any better than they are."

Medea wrinkled her nose, indicating exactly what she thought of this logic, before sighing. "Well. If moaning loud enough to wake the dead is a sign you were not enjoying yourself, I apologize."

" _I was not—_ I mean... no. It's not... that," Sakura said, painfully aware that disguising a blush while naked was impossible. "It's... it's principle. I guess. It's not that I wasn't enjoying myself, just... you didn't let me... well. I just needed some time to think about it. That's all."

Medea's smile was wicked, and made Sakura's entire body tingle. "And now that you've thought about it?"

"I need," Sakura said primly (and no, the tone wasn't any more fitting the second time), "to know my other option."

Medea sighed. "Well. This is a mental realm, but the rules of a contract still apply. Sexual contact to forge the connection, which means you stop being difficult and let me finish... or drinking blood."

"... … ..."

"I _did_ tell you the other option was less pleasant."

"I was distracted!"

"You were approaching orgasm."

"Which. Was. Distracting!" Sakura snapped. God, this was just... so bizarre. It wasn't that she had no interest in such things. Indeed, she had... considerably more than most people. She had just never been able to exercise those urges of her own free will, and she had... not expected it to go this way. She had never expected to have the choice at all, really. But in her fantasies, when she had dared to let herself have them, well... it had most certainly not been like _this_. And yet here she was.

Medea was clearly not what one would call a shining pillar of morality. She had demonstrated that more than once, simply by virtue of the fact her first thought as to Sakura's innermost desires had been to assume she wanted to wreak bloody vengeance on the Earth. But... she _did_ seem genuine in one aspect. She did, at least, want to help Sakura, in her own, somewhat twisted way. And in a bizarre way, this had all been kind of sweet of her. She hadn't gotten it quite _right_ , but she had at least _tried_ to make it as pleasant as she could.

 _And she was a great kisser..._ said the part of her brain that had been begging her to just shut up and let the woman work earlier, still a little sore at being kicked out of the driver's seat.

Sakura sighed, rubbing her head. This was all so strange, and well... there was still Senpai to consider. Did this count as betrayal? She loved him. She knew that, it was the one thing in this world she was _sure_ of. But it didn't mean she wasn't attracted to other people, and the way Medea had rammed right through her conscious mind and into her libido suggested she was a bit more into girls than she'd expected of herself. And she did need the mana... and drinking blood, even dream blood, well...

She opened her eyes, to look Medea in the face. Or, well, she tried. "Stop staring at my chest."

"Hm? Oh! Sorry."

"Look," Sakura said. "I... well. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm choosing to trust you this once. I still don't know what your game is, but I think you do want me to be healthy, at least."

Medea rolled her eyes. "Of _course_ you would say that. I swear, no matter what I do or say to you, it's never enough to make you... wait, what? Did you just say y-"

She was cut off at this point, by Sakura placing a finger under her chin and tilting it gently upwards to lean in and kiss her. Apparently not choosing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Medea melted into the girl, sliding her arms around Sakura's waist and pulling her close, deepening the embrace.

"Slow down," Sakura whispered, breaking the kiss and putting one finger on the Servant's lips to hold them apart. "I'm trusting you. So you have to honor that. If this is going to happen, then... well. It shouldn't be so mechanical. It should be something special between us."

Medea blinked. "It's only a ritual. I will make certain it feels good, but..."

Sakura giggled. "You are a bit silly, aren't you? What I mean is... _don't_ treat it like a ritual. This is a dream, isn't it? In the real world, that is my life. This... well, this sort of thing, anyway, it's always all about _rituals_ and, and need, and control. It's all done out of necessity or for power, and it's just... sick. In here, in our place, let it be about us. And that means I want it to be tender, and special, and I most of all want you to enjoy it too. Something pleasant, and gentle, that we can share. Just let it be a happy dream. Please?"

Medea stared for a long time, something softening in her eyes. "I... see. I'm not sure what to say to that, other than I... will try. It's not like tenderness is something I have a lot of experience with but..."

Sakura smiled, and brushed her lips against the other woman's to silence her. "Me neither. But I hope that isn't too late to learn a little."

The hesitant brush became a deeper kiss. Slowly, hands began to wander, bodies intertwined, and the two women descended back down to the covers together.

There was not a lot of talking, after that.

* * *

 

The swarm of demonic insects surged out from the Matou manor upon the setting of the sun, chittering for blood. It was only a matter of time before they found someone foolish enough to be walking the streets at night, and the immortal Zouken Matou would walk the Earth again in stolen skin.

Behind them, unseen save for the barest flash of a white skull in the dark, Assassin slipped into the night.

Her expression cold, Rider entered the empty manor, on her new Master's orders. She moved silently, making her way to the basement in seconds, and nearly snarled aloud at what she saw; Sakura, unconscious on a stone island, in the center of that pit of vileness her grandfather called his laboratory.

A few of the worms were slowly crawling toward the prone girl. Like a black hurricane, Rider swept down upon them.

They stopped crawling.

Without a word, the Servant scooped the prone girl up in her arms and sprinted for the door faster than a human eye could have hoped to follow. She did not, at any point, notice the faint smile or blush on Sakura's sleeping face.

* * *

 

Sakura smiled, yawned contentedly, and stretched, feeling more energized and healthy than she had in years. Beyond a strange feeling that she should be _very_ embarrassed by whatever she had dreamed about...

**_Oh, u-um, I'm sure it was nothing. Just a silly dream. Ha ha. I should really stop thinking about it._ **

… but then, it was just a silly dream. She shouldn't bother worrying about something like that. How silly of her. She suspected grandfather wouldn't need her for anything in the near future, or she would already be summoned, so she rolled over, pulled the comforter up to her neck, and nestled back down in the soft mattress to rest.

… Wait.

Comforter?

_But... the last thing I remember, I was in the basement crypt, and grandfather isn't exactly the sort to tuck me in..._

"Pleasant dream?" asked a cheerful female voice that made Sakura's blood run cold. She opened her eyes to see perhaps the _most_ terrifying thing she could possibly imagine: Rin Tohsaka, sitting by her bedside.

Smiling.

Sakura squeaked in dismay, leaping out of bed and hiding behind the mattress.

"No, then?" Rin asked, struggling not to laugh.

"This isn't where I fell asleep," Sakura said, in the tone of a small child accusing another one of stealing her cookie.

"Well, that didn't look very comfortable," Rin said. "So, since your loving family were all out for the evening, I sent a friend to go bring you someplace nice and cozy. My room, in case you were wondering... there's a guest room, but I'm still having Archer make it up for you. You will be staying, correct?"

Sakura pondered this, and said, in a polite and respectful tone worthy of the gravity of the situation, "Have you lost your _mind?!_ You know we can't do that! No interaction outside of school! Certainly not in a Grail War! We've gotten away with slipping that a few times, but-"

Rin raised a hand.. "Sakura. Who made that rule?"

"Our... well, I mean your..." Sakura said, the words catching in her throat.

"Your grandfather... and _our_ parents," Rin said, putting appropriate weight into this most taboo of phrases, something she was absolutely forbidden to discuss with the girl in front of her under any ordinary circumstances... but these were not, in any way, ordinary circumstances. The Tohsaka family's laws were sacrosanct, of course, but... to seek the Root was the ultimate goal of _all_ magi, everywhere. She had a shot at that, if the von Einzbern brat had been correct... and really, who would know better than her? By those standards, as head of the Tohsaka family, didn't she have a duty to pursue that chance by any means necessary? Access to that limitless power and wisdom, putting the maligned Tohsaka family at the forefront of the global magical community. Wasn't that worth disobeying one command that she... well...

Wasn't it worth it?

Sakura winced at her tone. "You shouldn't have said that. You know that."

"Our parents, Sakura," Rin said, drawing strength from the words, "demanded we never again interact. Never meet. Never acknowledge our shared bloodline. Because they gave you to the Matou, and they wanted to prevent us from getting too close when circumstances might force us to fight. But... who says we have to?"

Sakura sighed. "Tohsaka... _nee-_ san. It's a Holy Grail War. You are a Tohsaka, and I..."

" _You_ _are a Tohsaka,"_ Rin snapped. "That ancient piece of trash might have tried to wipe out your true bloodline, but you are still a Tohsaka, and the Matou have done nothing but stagnate your potential. Or did you think that I wouldn't figure it out? That they... _used_ you as a battery to summon Rider, and then gave your Servant, _your Servant_ , to Shinji? Of all people! It's like they... they stole your diamond necklace to use as a collar for the family pet! They treat you like garbage, Sakura, and you don't owe them a speck of loyalty."

"How... how did you know about Rider?" Sakura asked, her tone barely above a whisper.

Sakura's eyes widened as Rin reached into the small nightstand next to the bed, and produced a very, very familiar book. "Let's just say I've been doing some light reading on the subject."

"You... you _stole_ her?" Sakura asked incredulously. "From nii-san? Is that even possible?"

"Apparently, but only with your help," Rin said flatly. "The false magic circuit is transmitting my mana to Rider properly, but it's only a temporary thing without you. You can override it whenever you want, if I've figured it out correctly?"

Sakura nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. If... if this was going where she thought it was going, then...

"Then I need you to not do that, Sakura," Rin said softly. She looked her sister dead in the eyes, and said, her tone barely above a whisper, "Because I think we should join forces, and claim the Grail together."

"We... we can't. Nee-san, you know we can't..." Sakura muttered, tears welling up in her eyes. She cursed her weakness, unable to believe she was on the verge of crying for the first time since she was a child, but some things were just too cruel, even for her. Rin was here, offering to save her? Offering her family, and comfort, and... and _hope_? Hope for freedom and escape, when she _knew_ it was impossible? Could the universe _really_ be so evil as to dangle that in front of her?

"Of course we can, Sakura. The two of us, united? The combined power of our Servants? Even Berserker couldn't touch us," Rin said, her tone cold, competent, logical. Absolutely certain in every way.

Sakura just kind of stared blankly at her, a deer in the headlights.

A cold pit began to grow in Rin's stomach. Was this not the right approach? Had she said the wrong things? Was Sakura having last-minute doubts? She _needed_ this to work. The War was turning against her in a big way, with many of the other Servants joined in dangerously powerful alliances. An alliance with Rider was her last real shot at a comeback, the key to turning things around. If she couldn't get her hands on that key, it was looking more and more like she was dead meat.

"I know you're ill, your magic isn't what it could be, and that's fine! I can provide the mana for Rider. All I need is your blessing, and we'll claim the Grail as a team, the way we always _should_ have been. Archer doesn't even have a wish of his own to make, so Rider has no reason to complain either. Don't you see, Sakura? The situation could hardly be more perfect!" she continued. She knew she was getting a little too energetic, but she didn't really care; Hell, it might be for the best if Sakura came to conclusion that Rin was begging, because in a very real sense she _was,_ and for her life, no less. "I get to claim the prize, you get to use it. Everyone wins! I know it's not what our father meant, but that just makes it all the more perfect that we could turn it out this way! He thought we would have to _kill_ each other, but we _don't!_ This is our chance to surpass his wildest expectations and achieve something he never imagined we could!"

There. She had made her case. It was not the whole truth, if Ilyasviel was right about the need for all of the Seven to die in order to power the Great Grail, but she still needed to keep Rider docile... and truthfully, she couldn't tell the whole truth because the whole truth was that she was more nervous than she'd been since she was a small child sneaking into her father's workshop.

Sakura felt lost, like she was adrift at sea without a life jacket. Rin was so certain, so passionate. She had no idea what she was talking about, and it was killing Sakura with each syllable offering false hope of reuniting with her sister, standing proudly beside her as family again. She knew that Sakura had been mistreated, but she didn't understand how much so, didn't fully comprehend the nature of the leash around her neck... or rather, inside her heart. Grandfather would never let her go willingly. There would be no family for her.

 _But... does that really matter?_ Sakura thought, the thought like a bucket of ice water, shocking her back to coherence as a plan began to form. Rin's idea was naïve and doomed to failure, certainly, but it did offer her a unique form of leverage that she had lacked before. A certain freedom to act that she could not have managed while under the Matou's roof. She had a reliable mana source for Rider, now, and she had someone willing to work for the privilege of providing that mana. Nii-san or Grandfather might have been able to pierce the security at the Emiya household, but the boundary field here was far more dangerous, and an Archer-class Servant was an excellent defender, able to spot concealed foes and attack them from miles away if needed. The only way Grandfather could even interact with her here was by commanding the Crest Worm to kill her, and if he tried to coerce her out, well... she had been kidnapped. She couldn't exactly walk out the front door, she was being held 'hostage.' Threatening her loved ones again would be useless. Purposeless. And for all his cruelty, Zouken rarely acted without purpose.

A bloom of something like true joy welled up in her. No, there would be no family for her, no happy ending. She was, most likely, going to die in this house when her grandfather finally lost his patience and disposed of her as a failed experiment, lost to him. But first, she had a chance to do some real, genuine good with her life, for what might have been the first time.

Sakura wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked at her sister. "I have one condition. Senpai... Emiya-senpai. He's the Master of Saber... and I want him to win the War. I don't care about getting it for myself, and I don't care about his Servant either, but he _must_ live through the War. And he must get the prize. He's the only one who really deserves it."

Sakura smiled, softly, at the sight of her sister's thunderstruck expression. "Any questions?"

* * *

 

Shirou Emiya and Saber left the Emiya household, the petite Servant glittering in her armor in the streetlights. The moon hid behind clouds, but this was no obstacle to either of them, and they made their way on the path to Ryudou Temple.

A creature not unlike a scorpion watched them, clinging to the branches of a tree near the Emiya manor.

A spider, weaving an oddly black web on a tree near the base of Mt. Enzo, watched them begin to climb the temple steps.

A thousand, thousand skittering, jagged, venomous insects and arachnids of all shapes, sizes and descriptions began to wake up. In the forest around the temple, on the roof, slithering through the pond and the tall grass, clinging to the ceilings in the darkened, abandoned rooms of the defiled holy shrine. All of the cast hungry eyes on the young man and Servant who stepped through the gate into the boundary field of the Temple of Medea, pausing only briefly as it began to eat around the edges of their life force. Not too much, not enough to drive them away. A web that drove away prey before they were properly snared was a poor web indeed.

And since coming under new management, the temple was indeed a web.

In the central temple, standing before a shattered statue of the Buddha, Zouken Matou saw through the eyes of his familiars and smiled. "Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly..."

In the heart of the swarm, a white skull shimmered into view, grinning horribly against the night.


	21. Spiders and Webs

Shirou shuddered as he opened the door to the main temple and looked inside, his skin crawling. "This is... wrong. It's like the air is screaming..."

"The air is filled with souls. This is the center of the spell that has been draining energy from the townspeople, Shirou. I can feel it trying to steal our life even now," Saber said softly. "Shirou. My resistance to magecraft will protect me, but you should leave the boundary field. I will explore by myself."

Shirou raised an eyebrow, despite very much feeling the growing unease in his gut, a certain odd heaviness in his limbs, like he had spent the day before exercising heavily and was exhausted now. Still. "We've been over this. I'm not leaving just because it's dangerous." Something crunched under his foot, and he looked down to see the wriggling body of a spider the size of his thumb. "... Or gross."

Saber's eyes narrowed as her hand snapped out into the darkness, and returned holding a similar spider, the creature chittering madly as it attempted to break free of the Servant's iron grip. Her eyes narrowed. "I've seen this type of familiar before. Zouken Matou."

"Sakura's... 'grandfather' is here, you think?" Shirou asked, recalling what the priest had told him of Zouken's true age. Between that and Saber's instantaneous realization the old magus did not have a human body, it seemed likely that Sakura was not actually his granddaughter. He found himself wondering, offhandedly, what his _real_ connection to her was, which led naturally into a reminder that she was all alone in that huge house, with Shinji doing God knew what and that old monster hanging over her like a guillotine.

_Unless she went home of her own free will, in which case …_

No. That wasn't a train of thought worth going down. Sakura was _in danger_ , not _dangerous_. He believed that. The alternative was not worth contemplating.

Saber examined the creature in her hand before crushing it dispassionately and wiping the ichor on the wall of the temple. "Quite. The boundary field is not his work, however. The power he showed in our meeting was... insignificant in comparison to what I sense here. It can only be the work of Servant Caster."

Shirou blinked. "Shinji was the Master of Rider. Are you suggesting there are _two_ Matou masters?"

"They are one of the more involved families, so it wouldn't be impossible. And I doubt that Zouken would have much problem killing Shinji himself if such became necessary. He may very well be the Master of Cast-"

She cut off her sentence, then, and a shower of sparks appeared from nothingness about a foot in front of Shirou's nose as he turned to look back outside the temple.

"Wh-"

Another burst of sparks lit up the night, and another, and another. Shirou merely stared wide-eyed, unsure of what was going on in front of him; it looked like nothing so much as very small fireworks going off in the darkness, but rather than a 'pop' each was announced with the shriek of metal on metal and...

 _Saber's sword is moving. So fast I couldn't see it, but if I follow the trail of mana..._ he thought suddenly, the tremors in the air and the power in the sword's sheathe of wind letting him follow it just _slightly_ after the fact as it snapped through the air, intercepting a swarm of...

Knives. Black knives, barely visible in the shower of sparks as she batted them aside. He was preparing to ask what the _Hell_ was going on, when Saber turned to him and with a single swift motion threw him further into the temple as she snapped, "Shirou! You must stay inside! This Servant specializes in targeting Masters!"

"Saber, w-"

She slammed the massive temple doors as if they weighed nothing, and the wind surged as she charged into the night, the sound of metal on metal ringing through the temple walls as the attack continued.

Shirou growled under this breath and lunged for the door, firmly intending to chase after her no matter _what_ she said. He slammed into the door...

And bounced off, the door sealed tight and the wood harder than plate steel.

_Reinforcement!_

The skittering and chirping of insects grew louder as a crawling, writhing carpet of shiny black creatures burst into sudden motion, scrabbling down the walls from hiding places on the ceiling and outside the windows, rolling over the door in a clattering, venomous wave that covered every exit.

Shirou leaped back, coming to his feet and preparing to fight, but not really sure of what he could _do_. Even if he could manage to do... whatever it was that he had pulled against Lancer (and he wasn't at all sure he could!), he was facing not a single opponent, but _thousands_. A sword was not much defense against a swarm of insects, leaping onto him, digging in, millions and millions of fangs sinking in from all angles...

 _Okay. Okay. Calm, Emiya,_ he thought. _This doesn't look good, but panic won't help. There's still a chance to escape. Look for a thin spot, a weak point, stay calm and analyze the swarm for any hint of a weakness, and..._

Several hundred of the swarming creatures, larger and slimier than the venomous insects that made up the majority of the horde, flowed together. The decrepit form of Zouken himself, his face set in a confident smirk, stared at the young Master. "Good evening, Shirou Emiya. How kind of you to venture into my temple. And to bring such a charming donation."

 _Okay. Okay. Not good, but stay calm. There's a broom off to the side, near the wall. If I can get to it, reinforce it, I might be able to catch him off-guard_ , Shirou thought. _He's controlling all these creatures, and if I hurt him, he might lose his grip on them, stun them, and..._

A dark patch of shadow detached itself from the wall, the insects in that area screeching in open horror and fleeing from it even as it solidified, taking on the form of a woman. She was beautiful, in a cold way, with hair and skin pale, marble-white, and features that would have done a supermodel jealous. Her eyes, however, ruined the effect; solid, bottomless black as dark as the cloak which writhed around her like a living thing, not a hint of any other color in them. He had no idea who she was, but the aura of power and malice around her meant she could only be a Servant.

 _All right_ , Shirou thought. _It might be time to panic._

* * *

 

Saber leaped through the trees, noting as she went how many of them were fallen; a battle had taken place here, and recently.

A trap, then?

She would find out shortly.

The white skull flickered through the darkness, barely visible, hurling knives with deadly precision even as it retreated through the trees. If Assassin was difficult to see, then the blades were invisible, blacker than the night and moving faster than bullets. Any opponent relying on sight to battle would have been skewered a dozen times in a second.

Saber did not need to rely on her eyes.

Unlike Lancer, who could detect projectiles from the bloodlust of the one who threw them, Saber's combat instincts were simply so refined that they bordered on precognition. She could sense the attack coming, even detect the trajectory of the weapon as it approached, and with prana filling her limbs and sword, her reflexes were faster than even Assassin's daggers. The killer retreated steadily, and Saber gained on him with each step, his weapons useless.

Exactly as planned.

Assassin was not quite as fast as Saber when she was funneling mana into her legs to increase her sprinting speed, but the darkness and the trees that littered the woods did nothing to slow him. While she had to occasionally slow to leap over a log or slap aside a projectile, his pace did not change no matter what obstacles he encountered, skittering over the fallen timber like an animal. Saber almost suspected he had eyes on the back of his head, his movements were so smooth; or perhaps the mask itself was on the back of his head, and she was seeing his back as he retreated. No, the daggers were too accurate for that...

She stopped, her instincts screaming at her that danger lay ahead, even as Assassin halted his retreat in the branches of a low-hanging tree. "Why do you halt, Saber?" the white skull asked, his tone mild, almost conversational. "It is clear you do not fear me. Though I might be the greatest of all assassins, it is obvious that my power as both a Servant and a killer is far below yours. I threw those daggers so they could not be seen, and yet you deflected them all."

Saber narrowed her eyes, taking a step back. The instinct that told her where each dagger had been now told her that something was horribly _wrong_. She had taken Assassin's measure and she could kill him with a single blow, and yet she knew that she _must not_ get close enough to strike that blow. "I would not use this blade," she motioned to the sword in her hands, invisible save for the slight swirl of wind, "if I feared that which I could not see."

"Ah, of course. To use a weapon like that, you must have great perception. Or perhaps simply instincts I cannot understand. But then, I am not a warrior, but an assassin. Combat is not my specialty, I'm afraid. One on one, I am no match for you no matter the distance. So I think it is fortunate that you have made two mistakes."

Saber opened her mouth to reply... and then stopped, her eyes wide with shock as she snapped her blade up to her neck in response to the overwhelming sensation of bloodlust that suddenly rolled over the forest. The black and red lance seemed to appear from nowhere, a blade that dove in at her jugular with force vastly exceeding the feeble impacts of Assassin's knives, striking her guard with such force that her feet were forced into the ground where she stood.

"The first mistake you made," Assassin said, his tone cool as Saber's blade rang with the scream of Lancer's charge, the tranquility of the soft conversation shattered as Excalibur danced madly, a dozen strikes from Gae Bolg raining down on her, "was in assuming this battle would be one-against-one. Sadly, there are two on my side."

"Don't listen to him! I wouldn't _dream_ of making this a two-on-one, not with you!" Lancer roared in bloody joy as he stepped forward, swinging his weapon down in a circling arc at Saber's legs before reversing the direction, slashing upward, intending to slit her chest open from the bottom up, and his smile only growing as she predicted the move, smashing his weapon aside and stepping into his swing to slam a prana-charged shoulder into his chest, forcing him back. Rather than resist, he leaped back, letting the blow be minimized by his own momentum, and swinging once more at Saber's neck, forcing her to back out of her sword's range. The two Servants squared off, Lancer's shark-like smile in sharp contrast to Saber's half-panicked scowl.

Lancer turned to the skull in the trees, his expression souring slightly. "You heard me, right? Saber is my kill. I don't know what arrangement that whore made with your worm of a Master, and I don't care. She isn't here to hold me back anymore, and Saber is _my_ kill. If you interfere, it will go badly."

Assassin chuckled dryly. "Well. It's not efficient, but so long as you cut her down, it matters but little. Do as you please."

"Assassin," Saber muttered. "You said there were two mistakes..."

"Ah, yes. Your second mistake was in making assumptions," Assassin said, "The Assassin class does indeed specialize in killing Masters above Servants, and you were correct when you told him that he was my target from the beginning. But you were hasty, Saber. You assumed that you knew the _way_ in which I would kill your Master, when in fact... I have already done it. You see, my Master is far more powerful than your Master. So unless you can kill Lancer in the next few minutes, I'm afraid the poor boy is food for Zouken's worms."

Saber's eyes widened, and she had just enough time to whisper Shirou's name in horror before the cursed lance dove in at her heart, forcing her to focus on the the battle for her life first and foremost.

_Please, Shirou, hold on...!_

* * *

 

Rin Tohsaka sighed, sitting alone in her lab, rubbing her temples to fight off the headache.

She wasn't in a good mood, frankly. She had expected Sakura to negotiate, of course. The girl was a Magus, and she would have been a fool not to try to get as much as she could out of the bargain. She was basically trading her Servant to Rin, after all, a ludicrously valuable coup for the Tohsaka Master. Sakura would certainly be well within her rights to ask for something amazing in return, which was why Rin had entered negotiations with plenty to offer.

Silly her, apparently, for thinking that Sakura would be satisfied with being offered freedom from her clearly abusive family, a return to the Tohsaka bloodline she had been unfairly cast out from, vindication from all the unfairness of her life and a _wish of limitless power on the Holy Goddamn Grail._

 _Maybe she's trying to get me killed_ , Rin thought bitterly. _It would make sense. It wouldn't be strange to have a grudge against the family. I was hoping it would just be our parents. I would understand that. But maybe she hates me too. Otherwise, why would she go out of her way to shackle me to maybe the one person in this War who I have the_ least _shot at making an alliance with?!_

"Archer, get in here," she murmured.

"Was always in here," Archer said, fading into view. "Rider stayed with Sakura. I've been skipping in and out of the room, but I haven't heard any discussion. Sakura seems to have fallen asleep."

Rin rolled her eyes. "She just woke up. What is she, a cat?"

"I think she's abused and exhausted, but it's hard to be sure," Archer said with a shrug. "I'm not a doctor. I was just assuming, based on how you saw her being beaten in a pit of magic worms, and she was practically comatose when Rider brought her back here."

Rin sighed. "Okay, okay. I get your point. I'm bitter. This is a disaster."

"Shirou Emiya." Archer shrugged. "Helping him out would not be my first choice, either. But the fact of the matter is, Rin, we _do_ have some things on our plate that are more important than a Holy Grail War."

"Caster and that Shadow? You said you hurt it. Saber hurt it. It isn't that bad."

Archer sighed. "Not hurt it, Rin. Dispersed it, maybe. Disrupted the flow of mana. But Saber hit it at point-blank with one of the most powerful Noble Phantasms in the war, and it _didn't die_. I must have sent a hundred blades right through it and it just kept coming. It's not impossible to fight, Rin, but... as far as I can tell, it's impossible to permanently kill. And what it did to Caster and Lancer... if it gains control of all Seven Servants? That's what makes the Grail _work_ , Rin. You know full well what kind of power that means."

Rin fought the urge to scream. "Fine. _Fine!_ I'll... I'll go out there, and I'll find Shirou Emiya, with his perfect alliance and his ultimate Servant and his having _no reason_ to trust me, and I'll arrange for him to kill my Servants and get everything I ever wanted, to make a girl I barely know happy!"

"You're just being petty, at this point, Rin. If you're his ally, his victory becomes yours. He wins because you allow it, not because of his own skill," Archer said. "And more practically, when you and he are the only two Masters left, and Sakura's approval doesn't matter anymore, you can gut him like a trout. I'll help, believe me. But for now, we need all the power we can get on our side, and Shirou Emiya... or more to the point, the alliances with Saber and Berserker he can offer... represents the biggest windfall of firepower we could hope to get our hands on. I know you wanted to do this on your own. But she might have the right idea after all, at least for the time being."

Rin sighed in annoyance. "So. I need to think of a way to get on Emiya's good side after shoving him away with hostility since the start of the War. Great. Just... just great. Well, at least we have a plan of attack. "

Archer pondered this for a second. "Rin. Some things occur to me."

"Hm?"

"Shirou Emiya is a noble, overly chivalrous dolt, correct?"

"Pretty much."

"And now that Sakura isn't in his care anymore, he's likely to go on patrol even more. And Caster and Lancer and that Shadow and Zouken are all running around doing who knows what. And he's, again, a _dolt_. The kind of dolt who would run around at night without contacting allies or planning anything. And Saber is just as bad, in her own way. So. Let's say that Zouken is, for example, setting some kind of trap. Which is plausible, since we stole both Rider and Sakura from him and yet he hasn't responded, indicating a larger plan at work. And the Emiya kid and Saber are out patrolling."

Rin considered this.

She then said, very matter-of-factly, "Oh God our alliance is going to die."

She burst into a sprint for the front door, screaming for Rider to follow, the Tome of the False Attendant clamped under her arm as her mind raced, trying to determine where, exactly, Shirou would be going to get himself killed tonight.

* * *

 

Ilya nibbled on her fingernails in worry.

She hadn't gotten much sleep the last few days. Following Shirou around endlessly was time-consuming, and trying to maintain her secret alliance with Saber only made it harder. But she was on the ball enough to realize something was wrong on that damn mountain again.

For the second time in a week, she could sense it. The Black Grail, it's extended power in play. She had hoped that Saber's actions the previous night would weaken it, but if the power had decreased at all she couldn't tell. Whatever the Black Grail was, it regenerated from damage almost insanely fast... if it was possible to truly 'damage' it at all.

Once again, she considered the possibility of just hunting down and killing the Makiri who almost certainly generated it. She would be vulnerable now, with her power raging atop the mountain...

Ilya sighed. _Shirou, you make things so hard on me._

She could sense the disaster on that mountain. It could all be stopped with one meager little Matou reduced to paste. But her stupid Shirou would be stupid broken if his stupid childhood friend died, even if it was probably for the best!

Love was complicated.

Beside her, Berserker rumbled, his muscles tensing. She thought for a moment he'd reacted to her anger and frustration, felt her fury and was driven by it to destroy... but then, she saw something approaching the mountain, her vision dancing among the trees on the sides of the gate.

"Tohsaka...?" Ilya murmured. "Did she come here to raid the temple? But I thought she was driven back last time. What has..."

Ilya was cut off, then, just before she could get out the word 'changed', by Rin Tohsaka halting at the bottom of the steps up to the temple gate, and _Rider_ appearing out of thin air next to her.

"What the what?!" Ilya squeaked as Rider burst into motion, sprinting up the steps like a black arrow, barely visible in the night. " _Rider?!_ How did she get Rider?! Did Archer die? What am I saying, if Archer had died I would know! Did... did she _trade_? _That doesn't make sense._ "

As Ilya argued with herself, Rin took to the shadows and sat down, looking exhausted. Much more than she should be, if Ilya had judged her abilities correctly...

Ilya sighed in annoyance one last time. She didn't really have a _scout_ , per se, and magic didn't pass through the boundary field on the mountain easily. She was limited to perceptions based on her link to the Black Grail, and she _couldn't_ send Berserker to fight that thing by himself. The extended power was lethal to direct touch, and he really had no other way to fight it.

On the other hand... Shirou and Saber were alone up there, and while Saber had turned out to be much more amazing than Ilya had given her credit for, if Rin was here as an opportunist and not an ally...

Hoping against hope she was not making a huge mistake, she muttered. "Follow, Berserker. Take your astral form and remain hidden for the moment. If anyone tries to hurt Shirou or Saber in your presence, please do kill them horribly."

Berserker wasn't the best Servant for precision orders, but that was one he was good for.

* * *

 

Shirou's enemy was a swarm of poisonous, flesh-eating magical insects so thick it coated the walls and door, filled up every window, and blotted out the stars. Standing among them was an archmage with centuries of experience, and the embodied spirit of a legendary hero.

His resources consisted of a broom that he could Reinforce to be a much harder broom.

Shirou began to wonder if maybe this Holy Grail War thing had been a bad plan.

"Don't worry, lad," Zouken said, his voice that of a kindly, caring old grandfather lecturing a beloved grandson. "Your death does not come yet, I think."

"But soon," Caster said, her own voice clipped, cold. The rage was rolling off her in waves, as though simply being in the temple chamber filled her with such driving fury she was tempted to raze the entire building. Which, Shirou noted sadly, was something she could probably _do_.

"I'm afraid my companion here is a bit terse, but she has had a trying week," Zouken said. "In either event, you might as well make yourself comfortable. There will not be any escape for you here, my young friend, no chance of survival. You will remain here until your Saber has fallen, and then you will die. I bear you no ill will, you understand, but I am on a schedule and it is time for things to get back on track."

Shirou's eyes narrowed. "Then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Saber isn't going to fall. I don't know who Assassin's Master is, or why he's working with you, but there's no Servant more powerful than Saber. She'll kill him and be back for me. I believe in her."

The old magus smiled, and the expression was not _nearly_ so falsely reassuring as his voice. The skin of his face stretched grotesquely, showing rotting black and yellow teeth, and more than a little bloodlust shone through in his glittering black eyes. "Indeed, I think that one-on-one Saber could kill Assassin with a single stroke of her sword. Truly, she is a magnificent specimen, the kind of rare artwork that can bring a little warmth to even this withered old heart. But this entire mountain is my trap, don't you see? Every decision you've made since you stepped onto it has done nothing but bring you deeper into the spider's web, and you are so tangled in that even Saber cannot escape the fangs."

Shirou gritted his teeth, gripping the broomstick as he forced more mana into it. It wasn't much of a weapon, but if he could land a firm enough blow on the old magus, catch him and Caster off guard, maybe her could manage to get through the carpet of insects alive. It was a slim hope, but...

And then it was no hope at all as a bolt of black light struck his improvised weapon and shattered it to kindling.

"None of that," Caster said firmly, black magic still crackling in her raised palm. "No more resistance, no more plans going awry, no more dramatic last-minute rescues for you infuriating brats. First you and the Saber who so callously brutalized my pet, then the Tohsaka girl and her ridiculous sword-slinging clown."

Shirou very nearly fell to his knees in despair, then, as all hope seemed utterly lost.

"And _nobody_ ," Caster said, "is going to stop me."

The wall shattered inward, screaming filling the air as insects were sent flying through the room with so much force they shattered into clouds of chitin and ichor on impact. A silvery blur, chains hissing like a striking snake, stabbed inward and pierced through Caster's wrist. Shirou had _just_ barely enough time to recognize Rider's bizarre chain-spike weapon before it snapped back, whipping the snared Servant up _through_ the roof of the temple and in a wide arc to slam into the ground outside.

Zouken and Shirou fell silent for several long seconds, even as the swarm covering the temple automatically moved to cover the new hole.

"You would think," Zouken said finally, "that someone as old as her would be wise enough not to tempt fate so blatantly."

* * *

 

Caster's mind was red with pain and fury, the spike in her wrist stinging far less than her wounded pride as the invading Servant who had stolen away into _her Temple_ swung her about like a toy at the end of a ribbon; crushing her into paved stone paths, rocks, and temple walls with bone-crushing force.

At the height of yet another swing, she decided she had had enough of that. Hissing a simple spell under her breath, she slashed her free hand like a blade, a wave of black energy roaring out of it. The chain was the weapon of a Servant and did not break under the basic spell, but it was torn out of Caster's arm in a spray of blood and bone, tearing open the top of her wrist. She nearly screamed, but a Magus was no stranger to pain, and she needed to concentrate.

Her cape spread like wings as she remained in the air, the inertia of the other Servant's throw canceled by Caster's magical flight. She stared down at the violet-haired woman in undisguised wrath, and gestured once, her staff appearing in her undamaged hand.

" _Burn, insect."_

Fire rained from the sky, a storm of blue and black flame that covered the Temple grounds, tearing deep into the earth, reducing paving stones to so much molten slag. It was not a bombing run so much as a rain, each bolt no larger around than a fist, but within inches of each other. To the naked eye there was no visible means of escape.

So it was somewhat shocking, to Caster, when Rider escaped.

If Caster was a storm, then Rider was a single mote of dust blown in the wind; tiny in comparison to the raging light, and yet fluid, untouchable. She dove between spaces that looked like they wouldn't have fit a fly, weaving sinuously among the explosions as though the heat of the flames was no more uncomfortable than a summer breeze. It wasn't the direct, piercing speed of Lancer or the inhuman scuttling of Assassin, or the hurricane of Berserker's charge; Rider's movements were as fast as any of them, but with a shocking, graceful beauty to it, flowing like water in a graceful, stunning dance.

The blasts faded, black flame melting into more mundane mortal flames as they consumed the stone and grass alike, the heat like a blast furnace.

And Rider stood crouched on all fours in the midst of the destruction, untouched and ready to pounce, her bizarre weapon coiled around her.

Caster gazed down on her, black eyes wide with open shock. Her vision showed her a tall, athletic woman with ankle-length hair and a black leather dress, no particular aura of radiance as Saber had, or bloodlust as was seen in Lancer. She seemed, to the eyes, a Servant of no particular power or dignity. And yet...

Caster had seen, with her own eyes, the strange woman achieve a feat of speed and agility she would have deemed impossible. On some primal level, she could not fight down the notion that she was staring at a venomous serpent about to strike.

She shook her head, throwing aside that ridiculous notion. She had access to infinitely more mana, a power source that had already healed the wounds the other Servant had inflicted. With that power behind her spells, she was more than a match for anything the War had to offer...

 _When I am joined in Sakura's power, one with the darkness. Without it, Archer nearly destroyed me last night,_ she reminded herself firmly. Between that and Lancer's madness, the evening had nearly been an utter disaster, even if the threat of his Master's death had eventually brought the psychotic Cu Chulann under some meager degree of control.

Still, it had been a valuable night in one way. She had learned not to let her confidence run away with her. She had underestimated Archer and been stung for it. She had underestimated Saber and cost Sakura health and mana creating a new projection of the Shadow, mana she had needed to restore, and in so doing bond a little more with her tool than she'd actually hoped or planned to.  

She took higher to the sky, until the violet-haired Servant was a dot on the temple path, visible only due to the light of the many fires burning. She was far outside the Servant's established range, now, and with a word and a gesture she called forth mana, more than she had ever brought into a single spell. The magical circle that burned beneath her was bled magic, so thick with curses it took on physical form.

The blast that resulted would demolish the temple, most of the mountain path, and most likely kill both Shirou Emiya and the current corpse-body of Zouken. Both thoughts brought a smile to her lips. Zouken would survive, of course, but the loss of his body would hurt him, and she _dearly_ wanted to hurt him. As for the Emiya boy...

Sakura would be dismayed, certainly, but she didn't _need_ him anymore. When Caster was done, Sakura would never need anyone but herself, ever again.

She gazed down, the spell gathering power as ancient curses slipped past her lips, carrying bile and wrath into the growing casting. The small dot that was the other Servant took on a slight, odd red tinge, barely visible. A counter-attack? She didn't even know which Servant this was, so...

No, wait. Assassin, Saber, Lancer, Berserker, and Archer had all been accounted for. She'd gotten visual confirmation of each, either in personal combat or through the Shadow. So this was, by necessity...

A white blur slammed past her at speed she wouldn't have imagined possible, a barely visible flash in her perception that shattered one of her wings and sent her tumbling, the gathered mana she had prepared scattering violently with a backlash that burned through her mind like a red-hot poker. She barely managed to weave enough mana to repair the wings of her cape and prevent herself from going into a free-fall.

"Taking the battle into the air," Rider announced, "was a mistake."

She looked up, and her jaw dropped.

Outshining the moon, scattering the darkness, an immaculate sight filled the air above her. Rider was astride the back of a... calling it a 'winged horse' was the grossest of understatements. Technically accurate, but akin to calling a flawlessly cut sapphire a 'rock' or a king's golden throne a 'chair'. It was more like the spirit of the horse, the _essence_ of what a horse _was_ purified and given physical form, shimmering with an otherworldly light that even Caster recognized as a rare and ancient magic indeed. Not an animal, not really. A phantasmal beast, a concept given flesh, the _idea_ of the Pegasus...

"Why are you doing this?" Caster demanded. "You are Rider! Servant of Sakura!"

"Yes. And?"

Caster snarled in exasperation, "Idiot, you must suspect the truth of Sakura's powers! The Shadow and the Blackened Servants are hers, just as you are!"

Rider tilted her head slightly. "... Ah. So that is what it was. I knew that some outside influence had taken root in her, but to think it was _you_. Yes, this is good. I had my doubts about Rin's judgment, but it seems she has led me to something I can use. There is a poison in Sakura's soul. I have observed it for some time, without understanding its nature beyond the fact it damaged her from the inside out.

"But if you are a manifestation of that darkness, I have a path. If I kill you, perhaps the darkness within her will lessen. At the least, it is worth the attempt. So thank you for this knowledge, Caster. I am truly grateful, though I understand if you don't particularly see this in my actions."

Caster's jaw dropped. "But... are you _mad?_ The girl's inner mind is _mine,_ Rider. She would never approve! We are both her Servants, and her true heart will restrain you!"

Rider shrugged. "Under new management."

Snapping her reins once to incite the Pegasus, Rider charged.

* * *

 

Looking up at the top of the mountain from her spot outside the boundary field, Rin blinked up at the magnificent sight a few times. "Wow. I know how to pick 'em, apparently."

Archer, unseen, sighed.

* * *

 

Saber slashed aside the lance, sparks leaping from the clash of the weapons and a tiny cut opening on her cheek despite her block, but she had little chance to do anything about it. The lance had already retreated and thrust again by the time she had even registered she had been wounded, then again, and again, the strikes coming so fast they were nearly simultaneous. Only Saber's peerless battle instincts, her ability to sense the invisible blows incoming and react to them before they started, kept her from being outright skewered. Still, she was trapped outside her effective range, held on the defensive and being chipped down by dozens, maybe hundreds of tiny cuts sliced beneath her armor by the lance's bloodthirsty aura. Blood flowed down her legs, kept from pooling in her boots only by her constantly moving feet. Each block took slightly more effort than the one before it.

She was losing. And more to the point, she didn't have _time_ for this. Shirou was...

She risked a brief glance back to the temple, and her stomach fell at the sight of the white skull mask flickering in the trees. Assassin, while staying out of the battle proper as Lancer had demanded, had repositioned himself between her and Shirou, to cut off retreat.

She nearly laughed. As if she could turn her back on Lancer when it took all her skill just to hold him at a losing stalemate!

She needed an option, and she needed it now. Assassin himself was not a threat to her in direct combat. If she could contain Lancer for even a few minutes, she could break past Assassin with minimal effort, she was sure of this...

Ah. _Ah-ha_.

The problem with Lancer, really, was that his range outstripped hers by a crucial amount. So if she could increase her range...

She leaped back, the black lance burying into the ground and sending a wave of dirt flying into the air as Lancer tore it out with a growl, jumping after her. But the delay of dislodging his weapon had been enough of an opening. Saber had a small but critical opening.

Even as Lancer lunged, she swung her sword forward, and released Invisible Air.

The wind around Saber's blade was more than a sheathe for concealing her blade. It was a Noble Phantasm all its own, and had power appropriate to this task. Invisible Air was less a sheathe and more a contained typhoon, a storm compressed down into a space the size of a blade to give her cuts greater force and hide the truth of each movement. And just as she could release that air gradually, in a repelling barrier to drive back foes while she gathered power to use Excalibur's true power... she could also release it all at once in a single, unstoppable bullet.

The offensive form of Saber's first Noble Phantasm, Invisible Air: Strike Air, The Hammer of the Wind King. The force of the mana and speed of the wind made it an impact not terribly dissimilar from a wrecking ball flung by a tornado, able to crush boulders and uproot forests.

Lancer was the fastest of the Servants, and under normal circumstances, he likely could have dodged even a weapon of such amazing speed.

Under normal circumstances, however, he likely would not have been charging _directly at it._

Lancer planted his feet and tried desperately to push off in another direction. To his credit, he almost made it, which was more than anyone else could have done. Just as his ankle dug into the soil to bring him to a halt, the wind slammed full-on into his right shoulder, slicing in like a razor and hammering in like a battering ram simultaneously as the storm raged around him. Lancer went tumbling backward, slamming into an ancient old fallen tree trunk so hard it shattered like glass despite being thicker around than the support pillars of the temple itself.

His severed right arm landed next to him a moment later.

Saber did not know if the wound was mortal, and she did not care. Assassin was directly behind her and was, after all, a murderer. With Lancer awake and active, killing her would likely have turned his uneasy alliance into a battle ending in his own death. Now, though...

She spun, sword at the ready for the inevitable throwing knives, only to find that nothing had come. The white skull was vanishing, disappearing back in the direction of...

The temple.

_Shirou!_

Saber took off, all thought of tactics gone. The masked killer was returning to her Master, to alert him to his trap's failure and to defeat Saber by another method. If Shirou died, the loss of her contract would leave her weak enough for even Assassin to deal with her...

She poured mana into her legs, charging madly, her sword poised to protect only her heart and her head. Anything else she could survive. She had to catch Assassin and kill him at all costs, and given his speed she only had a few seconds to manage it before the monster reached Zouken Matou and Shirou died.

Assassin stopped, bunched his legs, and leaped up, into one of the only trees still standing. Saber stormed in at him, weapon raised...

And every instinct in her body screamed at her to stop. She must not, _must not_ , follow the skull into the darkness. Death surrounded her, and to go further was suicide. She stomped down to halt her, progress, unsure if Lancer had somehow recovered already, or a new enemy approached, but _certain_ that she must halt her charge to defend herself...

And her foot disappeared, a wave of cold and sudden aching weakness rolling over her entire body, as if she had stepped into a void that hungrily tore at her very essence, sucking the power from her muscles and replacing it with nothing but pain and bitter cold that rocked her to her core. She planted her other foot to try to pull free, only to find it trapped as well. Horror rocked her mind, only growing as she finally saw that the darkness she had mistakenly assumed to simply be the leaves and shadows of a forest floor at midnight was far, far too black. And as something she could barely perceive writhed around her legs in her blurring vision, the blood red of the Shadow began to twist among the black tendrils already snaking up her body...

Assassin laughed, a dry, empty sound. "I am afraid I told you a small lie, Saber. Lancer is not so gifted at stealth, you see. He could never have evaded your notice skillfully enough to launch a surprise attack... at least, not without help.

"You made a third mistake, Saber, and that was in trusting my words. This battle was three against one from the very start."

His gloating vanished into gibberish in Saber's ears as the darkness deepened.


	22. War Cries

Saber was a great soldier. Warrior and king, veteran of a dozen campaigns, a mighty general who had led her armies from the front and made war upon invaders and her fellow Britons alike. As such, she was able to stay relatively calm despite the fact that her entire body and soul shuddered with revulsion that threatened to drive her mad.

Relatively.

There were two threats. First, and most obviously, was the creeping darkness that slowly worked its way up her body, digging through her armor as though it did not exist and extending its filthy tendrils into her very essence, an aching hunger that spoke to her mind of pain, and loneliness, and desperate hunger. It wanted her, to draw her into itself and feast upon her until there remained not a trace of the Servant. This clearly could not be allowed, and she _could_ stop it. Her mana pool was enormous, and had only grown stronger since Ilyasviel had loaned some of her own power to her following the encounter with the golden Archer. While the sick thing was draining that power at a dangerous rate, she could still escape if she focused her all into a single burst. Even if she lost her legs, it would save her life.

This was where the second problem became apparent.

Assassin had continued to speak, though Saber's hearing had long been cut off by the waves of sickness and weakness that flooded her. She had no idea what he was _saying_... but she could see that he had removed his cloak, and the wrappings on his stunted arm. The limb unfolded at an unnatural angle, revealing an arm triple the length of a human's and twisted bizarrely over his head, ending in clawed fingers and sheathed in a bloody crimson aura. She could hardly sense the foulness of it... indeed, how could it have compared to the foulness that surrounded her own legs!... but her instincts screamed. This was dangerous. Less overtly vile, perhaps, but certainly it would kill her if she allowed whatever attack he planned to strike her with.

Her options were twofold, and both led to death, and so she made the only choice she could see. She would follow Assassin's strike and counter it as lethally and brutally as she could, taking advantage of his perceptions of her helplessness. She could not destroy this Shadow, she knew that. But if she could kill Assassin with her dying breath, or at least maim him beyond his ability to recover this night, it might very well make the difference in determining if Shirou lived or died. It was not much, but it was all she could do with what power she had left.

She tried to keep the smile from her face, shifting her weight and drawing her mana into her blade, the sheen of it nearly invisible against the darkness that already engulfed her...

And then an icy-cold razor pierced through her legs.

" _What?!_ " Assassin snarled in greater fury than she had ever heard from him, his curse dissipating in the shock of the moment. Through the haze of agony, Saber registered a tiny surprise that she _could_ hear him, the stifling effect of the Shadow on her senses now completely gone. In its place was pain like she had only rarely felt, but she was alive, and she was...

Rising?

At the top of one of the few standing trees, Lancer set her down, staring down with obvious wrath on Assassin. Her blood dripped from his spear, and Saber looked down dully to see that her legs were nearly gone, sliced cleanly off from the knees down. Revulsion filled her as she watched her own _limbs_ vanish into nothing on the forest floor below.

Lancer did not even spare her a glance as he said, "Nothing annoys me like someone who ruins my fun. With you crippled like this, the night's game is ruined. Grow your legs back and get lost, I'll kill you some other time."

"Lancer! What have you _done?!"_ Assassin snarled, his voice filled with a combination of shock and disgust.

"I _told you_... this was to be one-on-one. Saber will die at my hands, and nobody else's. I _told you!_ "

"You dolt! This defies all tactical logic! Your own master..."

"Is a mindless idiot," Lancer finished. "You see, that's what Caster isn't getting, and you're making the same mistake here: from here on, the only thing I'm obligated to do is _exactly what I want._ So you can go on about 'logic' as much as you want, but the fact is, I'm running mostly on whim here. For instance, right now, my whim? Is to laugh and watch you die."

 _What is he blathering on about...?_ Assassin thought, stretching out his senses and...

_Oh, sweet Allah that is not good._

Assassin leaped, his muscles bunching and sending him off a speed that was barely visible to the human eye.

It was not remotely fast enough.

Berserker appeared from nothingness and brought his axe down in a single perfect motion, his own speed making Assassin appear to be moving in slow motion. The monstrous weapon tore through the smaller Servant, and the black blur of his motion was, very suddenly, _two_ black blurs joined by a spray of dark red that scattered across the forest in a sickening shower as the Servant was torn raggedly in half at the waist, his legs falling limply into the Shadow and being eagerly devoured, and his upper body was hurled like a rag doll by his own momentum to crash into the underbrush unseen.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Lancer said helpfully, before leaping down, a grin on his face and his spear gleaming with gathered mana, as he charged...

Directly _past_ the larger Servant, leading him off into the forest and far away from the creeping Shadow that had already been starting to crawl up his legs. Berserker roared his fury and charged, the skin of his feet tearing off as he moved, what little mind he had so focused on the kill that he never even noticed the wounds, the exposed muscle of his legs leaving a trail of blood along the forest floor as his skin grew back on the fly.

"That's it," Lancer murmured, grinning wickedly. "Maybe this night wasn't wasted after all."

(*)

Caster slashed her hand, a half-dozen spears of black flame cutting into the night, and watched in dismay as they vanished harmlessly against the shining aura of the Pegasus as it charged, a keening cry tearing from its lips.

This was _absurd_. Her magic was ancient, power drawn from the age of gods. She was certain that she was not the strongest of the Servants, for certain, but she shouldn't have encountered any kind of mystery that would match her powers outside of a Noble Phantasm. But Rider's mount was an artifact of the same age of the world as her power. A pegasus should have been weaker than her, normally, but this one was ancient, a true descendant of the Age of Gods, possibly even _the_ Pegasus of the legend of Bellerophon. Its age and fame had made it something... more. Stronger than it should have been.

 _Dangerous_.

Caster dove, the pegasus missing her by scant inches as it tore through the air like a bullet. And though the creature never struck her, she was still sent tumbling madly, her cloak shredding around her merely from the shockwaves of the beast's flight. She twisted her body, the black wings regenerating and snapping the air around her, even as the Pegasus wheeled into the sky, already so high it looked more like a star than anything else.

This was insanity. She could not defeat Rider without first getting her _off_ that creature. And yet, her magecraft rolled off the pegasus's aura like water off a rock. Not one of her spells had come even close to dismounting the other Servant.

 _My pet, come to me, I need you..._ she sent out the call with her mind, begging the Shadow to come to her side, but heard nothing but swirling madness in her mind in return. Servants were still battling, in close proximity to it. It had tasted their power and wanted more, and would not ignore the chance for such a feast, not even to protect her.

 _This cannot be. This cannot be allowed. No. No, I refuse. I've come_ so far...! Caster thought, sending the waves of anger and wrath into the depths of her power, bolts of dark fire roaring out madly. Her magic tore through the sky like claws; rampant, toxic fury to burn this treacherous, vicious abomination down to nothing like she _deserved..._

The Pegasus tore through it, a shining beacon in the darkness, and Rider bore down on her like the spear of an angry god.

Caster fell, a sudden chill tearing through her for no reason she could see. After all, the Pegasus had missed her, had it not? There was no...

There was...

Her arm, her left arm, and her thigh, and a chunk of her torso, it was just _gone_...

She fell into darkness, the pegasus's cry of triumph echoing in her ears.

* * *

 

Rider did not smile, because the job was only half-done.

Still, one major obstacle was out of her way, and the flow of mana from Rin was as stable as it could be expected to be. With a gentle press to its neck and a mental nudge, she directed Pegasus into a dive toward the temple, the insects swarming in the air around it disintegrating from the mere touch of her mount's aura, before having it pull up at the last second. The shockwaves from her beloved child's passage tore the roof from the already damaged structure, and she flipped off its back, falling through the swarm untouched to land in the temple between Shirou Emiya and Sakura's loathesome slave driver.

Zouken's eyes were wide in obvious shock, an expression he did not often bear. "How... why would she become involved now?! She should not even be _sentient_ while..."

Rider rose to her feet, her chain spike materializing in her hands and falling to the floor around her, the links hissing like snakes as they clattered. "She is not. The War spirals out of your control, old man, and those you pretend to manipulate operate without your knowledge. Are you prepared to die?"

Zouken blinked a few times in confusion, before sighing in in annoyance and letting out a slightly self-deprecating chuckle. "Oh, my. It seems that certain factors _have_ spun a bit out of my control, but to be told of it by a barely-living doll is hardly good to an old man's ego. I shall have to have a long talk with my grandchildren after this night's events. As always, they manage to be a disappointment in so many ways..."

"Do not worry," Rider said softly, an almost imperceptible tensing to her muscles filling the air of the temple with an aura of menace. "You will not be disappointed for long."

Two things happened then.

Rider burst into motion, a whirling of blades and shadows that was barely visible to the human eye, but the results could hardly be ignored. All around her, the spikes of her weapon slashed wildly, and Shirou could _feel_ them passing by, missing him by mere millimeters as they tore through the room, ripping the swarming insects to pieces.

Second, and far less hope-inspiring, Zouken _vanished_ , dissolving into a writhing pile of the gigantic, writhing worms that vanished into the horde of familiars.

" _Such fire! I confess, I hadn't expected it of you, Rider. Though perhaps that was simply Shinji failing to draw out your potential,"_ Zouken's amused voice echoed throughout the temple. " _But so be it. As a reward for your sudden stand, I will allow you to keep the life of the young Emiya. Enjoy it, and take pride in it._

" _This is not over. Your unexpected stand is not so firm as you believe, and that hope you feel will be a poison before the night is ended."_

The hissing and chittering of the swarm had been so pervasive that Shirou found its sudden absence almost more disturbing than its presence had been. But her allowed himself only a moment to be stunned by his sudden good fortune, before saying, "Saber...!"

"Leave. Get to the temple gate and get off the mountain," Rider said firmly. "I still have prey to hunt this night."

She vanished, leaving not a sign she had ever been there...

Well, okay, except for the roof being ripped off and the hundreds of dead insects scattered around, dripping disgusting ichor all over the place. But that, Shirou pondered, made her seem a _lot_ less mysterious.

* * *

 

A shadow moved, on the shattered temple path.

No one was there to see it, and it made no sound as it moved, drifting across the ruined grounds toward the gate like a leaf in the wind.

* * *

 

Assassin knew that his wounds were horrible, because he could actually _feel_ them.

He was not what anyone would call 'normal,' not even by the standards of a Servant. His flesh and blood were twisted and flowed with mind-altering chemicals. Most pain simply did not register to his senses, letting him perform his duties without worry for injury. Now, though... the giant's blow had struck so deep that no drug could numb it. He could not move, could barely breath, could barely _think_ through the pain, his body a limp mass of torn flesh.

 _Assassin. Why has Saber not been destroyed?_ His Master's voice echoed through his mind. _You were not to allow her to be taken intact, despite what we might have told Caster._

Assassin laughed despite himself, as the sound of lance and axe smashing against each other rang through the woods. _Ah, Master... nobody is precisely intact here..._

_What? What do you..._

_Berserker... interfered. Saber is wounded and neutralized, but I've lost sight of her._

_Ah... ah-_ ha _. Assassin, things have become complicated. Intervene if possible... we have some control over Lancer, but Berserker is a wild card. Either way, it's probably best to ensure that one of them dies, if you can._

Assassin's eyes turned involuntarily to his very much still absent legs. _That may... present a challenge._

A mental sigh filled his thoughts, and around him Zouken's insects began to squirm out of the soil, and burrowed their way into his flesh. A brief sting of pain emerged from the their entry points, but it was followed by blessed relief and strength as the creatures dissolved in his veins, melting into a blessed infusion of mana as the familiars gave their lives in service to their creator. A shadowy mist began to form beneath his waist, as his ruined legs began to grow back.

With a sigh of mixed relief and annoyance, Assassin prepared to once again go into war.

* * *

 

Lancer was _just_ sane enough to consider that he was almost definitely insane, but he was having so much fun he could hardly care anymore.

The damage from his battle with Saber had already repaired itself, a useful tidbit gained from his connection to the Shadow (though he was a bit saddened by the fact his mask did not appear to regenerate with the rest of his flesh and clothing; he had rather liked the thing). And yet, he was already bleeding from a dozen new wounds. Just being _near_ Berserker's swings cut into his armor; not because of a curse like his own lance, but simply from the force of the giant's swings. And in return...

Lancer drove out a thrust that would have pierced the armor on a battle tank, and watched in barely-disguised glee as the weapon skipped off Berserker's hide with barely a scratch, drawing the weapon back barely in time to keep the return blow from taking his head off. The weapons smashed against each other with such force that the leaves were shaken from the trees, and Lancer was hurled backwards, digging up trenches of earth beneath his armored boots.

"You know, I could do this all night," Lancer said cheerfully, though his eyes were scanning the horizon and narrowing in annoyance to find the Shadow continuing the creep after them, seeking Berserker with a hunger he would have found admirable under any circumstances other than it trying to _ruin his fight_. "But frankly, we should keep moving."

Berserker roared, shaking the mountain, bloodlust radiating off the giant's bulk in waves so intense Lancer would swear he could see them. The giant charged, following Lancer's retreat, swinging , until the Shadow was outside his field of vision. Okay, probably safe for a bit, then.

"I hope you appreciate what I do for you," Lancer said with a chuckle, as he drove his spear in at Berserker's face.

* * *

 

Assassin watched the battle, pondering his situation.

The fact was, Berserker seemed more likely to win. Lancer was clearly barely able to scratch the giant's hide, despite his power and the curse upon his lance. Should Assassin simply stay back and ignore the situation (which, frankly, seemed the wisest course of action), then most likely Berserker would simply tear the other Servant to pieces and go about his Master's business. This would, as Zouken had said, not be a terribly unpleasant outcome. The blackened Servant was dangerously unstable and had turned a simple ambush into a fiasco.

However...

Lancer had utilized the most powerful of his Noble Phantasms in the presence of the Shadow. He was a known quantity, and further could not operate for long periods of time without the Shadow's presence... and thus, Zouken's tacit approval. Berserker, on, the other hand, was totally uncontrollable.

Ideally, removing _both_ of them was the option to take. But such a feat was well beyond his abilities, he knew that for certain. Defeating even one of them in one-on-one combat was...

A chill passed through the air, something slithering silently through the forest beneath him, a fallen tree dissolving into nothingness where it passed.

Of course.

He wasn't really _alone,_ was he...

* * *

 

Shirou took the stairs two at a time, calling to Saber in his mind with each step.

 _She's fine. She must be fine,_ he thought, a litany that was running through his head madly in between each silent call for her. _The Command Seal. I should use it. I should be certain. She would be here if she could, she..._

"Ugh. I should have known you'd be here," said a pained tone from the bushes at the bottom of the stone staircase.

"... _Tohsaka?!_ Did you get thrown into a bush, or...?"

"... I don't know what you mean," Rin said. "Look. I have the situation under control, so if you don't want to _die_ , just get out of here. Let Rider handle this."

"... _You're working with Shinji?!"_

"What? Where did _that_ come from?"

"Rider is Shinji's Servant! I thought she was dead but... wait. She _saved_ me from Zouken, and... I don't... what's going _on_ here?"

Rin sighed. "Does it matter? You're alive. Call to Saber and get out of here. I'm handling this."

Shirou paled. "Saber. I... something's wrong, I've _been_ calling to her and she isn't..."

Rin's eyes widened. "Her Command Seal. Is it..."

"It hasn't faded, but..." he stopped to consider it for the first time since Zouken and Caster had appeared. "It feels... _cold_."

"What? I've never heard of that, or felt anything like that from mine..." Rin murmured, raising a hand to her lips thoughtfully. _Archer? Sound familiar to you?_

 _Do you think I would know more about the system than you?_ Her Servant asked into her mind. _Though considering how tired you look, maybe you_ don't _know it all that well. Having Rider in combat is draining you faster than you expected. You should follow your own advice... call her back and get_ out _of here._

 _Shut up. There's too much going on at once for me to not be involved,_ Rin hushed, before saying out loud, "Archer doesn't know either. Look, maybe you should just..."

A sharp crack rang out down the street, like the sound of a ten-gun salute being unleashed directly into a tree trunk, cutting Rin off in shock...

… Because the sound had not come from the battle in the mountains.

* * *

 

"What _is_ going on here...?" Ilya murmured, casting her vision through the trees of the mountain, observing all events at once.

Shirou was safe, and that was good. He was with Rin, who was an ill-mannered barbarian, but she had a certain base cunning and a talent for violence, so he ought to be safe enough. Particularly since, and Ilya was not at _all_ sure how this had happened, Archer was with her.

And yet, Rider responded to her commands as well. The silvery line of mana connecting Master to Servant was not something that could be hidden from Ilya's eyes, and Rin most definitely had two. The one binding her to Archer was tiny, flickering, barely there, but it existed. The one that bound her to Rider was stronger, much more energy flowing through it, but there was something... _off_ about it...

Of _course._ It was fake! The same disgusting trick that loathsome little rat of a Makiri had pulled when _he_ had been in control of Rider. Ilya let out a small, frustrated growl... first Caster, then Zouken, now even _Rin Tohsaka_ was breaking the damn rules! Did these people have some deep-seated hatred of just fighting a Holy Grail War fairly?!

(The fact that 'fighting fair' in this particular War basically guaranteed the victory would go to her and Berserker did not bear mentioning, of course. Ilya was a lady and did not lord over the peasants. Much.)

Ilya took a deep breath, calming her frayed nerves. Rin might be a horrid little brat, of course, but she was at least tangentially on Ilya's side in this conflict. If she had taken some of Makiri's war resources and turned them to her own use, it was a _good_ thing. So for now, she sent her vision elsewhere.

Saber was alive, albeit clearly unhealthy. Her legs were not regenerating properly, her face pale and coated in sweat. Ilya frowned... the Servant's mana levels were oddly low, considering the fact that Ilya had given her a fairly massive deposit not long ago. Unless she had fired off that massive Noble Phantasm two or even three times, there was no way she should be so drained of energy... the Shadow's influence? It's hunger might well have not limited itself to Servants. Life energy in general was food to it, then?

 _Ugh. I'm gonna have to let her suck my blood again, aren't I?_ She thought, shuddering a little. She had plenty of energy to give, of course, it was just that the experience had been kinda gross. Still, it was better than letting Saber die, and maybe examining her would provide some information on the Shadow. There was... _something_ off about Saber, something she couldn't quite put her finger on...

Something stirred in the corner of her vision. A shadow moving where there was nothing to move it, no moonlight to cast it.

Ilya was not a stupid child, though her mind did not necessarily work in the way everyone else's did. She tore her mind from the interlocking consciousness of the forest and hurled a bolt of raw mana directly into it.

* * *

 

Shirou and Rin's ears perked up at the sounds of battle descending off the mountain. "Emiya, that..."

"You stay here, I'll check it out," Shirou said.

"Alone? You're not much of a fighter."

"No offense, but you look like you can barely stand up. I'll go see if it's something we should run from, and come back. Okay?"

"If you wanna die, be my guest. But your Command Seal... Emiya, there shouldn't be much sensation from them once they're in place. You should consider calling Saber down here with one and letting me examine her..."

Shirou looked at the Command Seals on his hand, still glowing brilliantly, but still feeling oddly chilled, like ice had been etched into his skin. "If something changes. I don't know what's going on up there. If Rider has gone to help Saber, then calling Saber away might get _her_ killed instead. And I owe her one."

"Idiot, you owe _me_ one, you..." Rin snapped, but Shirou had already started sprinting away with that idiotic determined look he did so well, and the thought of following him was already making her a little dizzy. Her muscles felt like lead, her skin felt cold and clammy, every motion seemed to take twice the effort it should have.

Dammit. She hated when Archer was right.

* * *

 

Lancer slammed into the tree with enough force to shatter the four-foot-thick trunk, blood flowing from his mouth and the gaping wound in his stomach. Gae Bolg fell from numb fingers, the wicked tip of the lance digging into the soil.

"Heh... hehehehehehe..." he chuckled softly, an almost gentle smile on his face. He watched Berserker's final charge, murmuring softly, "Good. Good. Finish it. No shame in ending it this way. This is how warriors die. _Finish it._ "

Berserker's weapon came down, tearing the tree to kindling.

And had Lancer still been there, his death would have been messy indeed.

"What the-?!" the black Servant snarled as something dark passed in front of his vision, and his broken body moved as if on its own.

No, someone was _carrying_ him, a shadow, dark against the darkness...

With a snarl of purest fury, Lancer struck out with his hand, the spikes on his armor tearing into Assassin's flesh, rivulets of dark blood streaming down his arm. "You son of a _bitch_ , how dare-"

The end of the sentence was drowned out by Berserker's roar as the giant chased them down, tearing through the debris caused by it's own vicious charge, its swings shaking the mountain.

Though even _that_ couldn't completely drown out Lancer's furious cursing as Assassin dropped him directly into the Shadow crawling along the forest floor, and Berserker heedlessly charged into the spreading darkness after him.

* * *

 

Ilya's power was not really a spell; she was a being of magic, it flowed through her veins, permeated every cell. When she chose to, she could direct it outward in a brutal, destructive bolt of energy that could pierce steel armor plate. She didn't know who it was that had snuck up on her, and she did not particularly care; if they meant well, they wouldn't be sneaking up on her cloaked in mana. She struck to kill.

It didn't do much good.

The barely-visible shimmering in the air grew and twisted, becoming a vortex in the air that drew her attack in, compressing it down into a pinprick of light that swiftly vanished, choked out by the darkness.

The shadows spread, and took form, and Servant Caster stood before her, smiling smugly. "Interesting. You truly _are_ a unique creature, though I'm afraid your spellcasting is still... _sadly_ human. Well, it will make it easier to contain you for experimentation."

Ilya shuddered, the aura of the darkness that rolled off the woman making her feel sick to her stomach as she forced a smirk to her face. "You'll forgive me if I don't feel like coming along with you. After all, innocent little girls in your care have a tendency to come to bad ends, don't they _Medea_? Your own daughter..."

Caster's dark eyes widened, the emotions on her face roiling rapidly between shock, terror, and a sorrow so deep that Ilya thought her heart would break... before settling, finally, on rage so dark it twisted her beautiful face into something barely recognizable as human. "You... are very useful to me, alive. Your _health_ is of less importance."

"And yours is no importance at all," Ilya countered, the command seal that lined her body lighting up brilliantly, the pattern of the magic wrapping around her body like a living thing. " _Berserker. Come to me."_

Nothing happened. The Command Seals burned, calling out for her Servant, but he _could not_ come, the magic burning in her skin as it tried futilely to call her protector to her, but... but...

 _Oh, no,_ Ilya thought.

She turned and ran into the night, Caster's delighted laughter mocking her with each pointless step as the Servant only barely bothered to give chase.

* * *

 

 _Oh, no,_ Lancer thought.

" _No_ you giant _idiot,_ you can't...!" Lancer screamed, watching in dismay as the monster's giant legs began to vanish into the darkness, his swing interrupted by tendrils of darkness that shot up to wrap around his arms, holding him fast.

Lancer called Gae Bolg to his good hand and swung his weapon, trying to cut the tendrils, but he was no longer truly a Servant, in many ways; he was _part_ of the Shadow now, and couldn't damage it as he once had. Further, the thing had grown stronger since their battle, absorbing him and feeding on a portion of Saber's power as well. The spear severed the tendrils, but they grew back so quickly they might as well have not been cut at all, and a dozen more joined them, melting into Berserker's body as though the armored hide was mere paper.

 _Dammit, dammit,_ dammit _!_ He thought, swinging futilely. The giant was barely noticing his own impending death trying to kill Lancer, and his own nigh-invulnerability was working against him here. There would be now slicing _this_ one's legs off. _My Noble Phantasm? Throw the spear, blast everything to Hell and hope what's left of him isn't touching the Shadow? No, that would just be chopping up it's food for it-_

He paused, a sudden sound distracting him from his reverie.

He had time for only one thought before impact, and that was, _Who brought a horse?_

* * *

Rider had come upon the battle some time ago, and was frankly not sure who to kill.

Lancer was an obvious choice. Like Caster, he was a manifestation of the chaos inside Sakura and had to be destroyed. And Assassin owed his fealty to Zouken, which earned him precisely zero mercy in Rider's mind. Berserker and Saber, however...

Rin had asked her to preserve Saber's life, but the other Servant was a threat. Rider's loyalty was and always would be with her true master. And Sakura, unlike the temporary Master who held the tome with Rider's Command Seal, most definitely did not want Saber alive. She wanted Shirou Emiya expelled from the War and safe. Rin would never approve, of course, but Rin was weak. Where Shinji would have extracted the price of disobedience from Sakura's body, Rin would likely only punish Rider herself and spare the girl. This was acceptable.

Berserker... well. She wanted nothing to do with that one, no matter how powerful she had grown under the Tohsaka's command. But she had to consider the simple fact he would probably kill her just for being nearby. So she resolved to avoid Berserker and discreetly put down Saber, if she encountered either. Which was probably why she had found Berserker almost immediately, ripping through the forest, beating Lancer like a ragdoll, and roaring maniacally, and had not seen Saber at all.

She was prepared to just circle away and head back to Rin, leaving the lunatics to rip each other apart (Though frankly, Berserker had been doing most of the ripping) when things had gone horribly wrong. The dark form of Assassin detaching itself from the blackness of the forest, altering the entire course of the battle with a single motion...

Rider didn't know what the Shadow was, precisely, but she knew that it was connected to Sakura and the Blackened Servants somehow. Allowing it to devour Berserker, perhaps even add his power to its own or turn him into one of those twisted servitors... this could not be allowed, under any circumstances.

She took to the sky, calling forth as she did her _true_ Noble Phantasm. Not nearly so impressive as the mount she rode; merely a shining golden bridle, reins, and saddle that appeared around on its back and neck. Beautiful, perhaps, but not on the same level of grandeur as the Phantasmal Beast itself.

Its effect was pretty impressive, though.

Pegasus screamed, a trilling shriek of fury and power that reverberated through the mountainside, its eyes turning bloody, frenzied red. The glow around it redoubled, until the animal in flight resembled nothing so much as a comet. Sheathed in power, outshining the moon, her passage so swift it tore the clouds from the sky, Rider drove her mount into a dive and unleashed her full power, calling forth the name of her greatest Noble Phantasm.

" ** _Bellerophon!"_**

The dive was impossible, a motion of such speed and power that defense was unthinkable. Trees simply dissolved as she struck them, and the last thing she saw before her light fell on the target was Lancer's horror as he jumped back with all his incredible speed... and did not escape.

For a moment, she was saddened that he had not been the target. But she had more pressing concerns.

The full force of Bellerophon slammed into the struggling Berserker and the Shadow that wrapped around him, and the forest exploded in light.

* * *

 

 _Berserker... Berserker, please...!_ Ilya's mind cried out, begging for her Servant to come, and whirling in terror as he failed to appear.

It was not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to always be there. He was the _only one_ who was always there, who would always obey, always listen, always protect her no matter _what_...

Caster's smug, musical giggle rolled through the night, and humiliation warred with fear for the prime emotion in Ilya's mind as she ran down twisting streets. The Servant wasn't even trying. Damaged as she had been, Ilya had still been nothing to her; she could have ended this at any time, but she was playing, a cat with a mouse.

Caster would die for this, Ilya decided. Horribly, and in the worst agony she could conceive. She didn't know when or how, but Caster _would_ die, and by her hands. To feel this... this lost was not something she could accept. She had thought that such turmoil had been behind her since she'd come here, met...

"Ilya?!"

" _Shirou?!"_ she squeaked, an entirely new terror leaping into her mind as she recognized the panicked voice calling out to her from down a side street, stopping dead in her run out of involuntary shock. "No. No, no, nonononono... you have to leave, you have to _run_ , get out of here _now_ and go find Saber, _hurry!_ "

"Ilya, what are you _doing_ out here in the middle of the night?!" he shouted, angrier and more panicked than she had ever seen him. "There are... _dangerous_ people out at night, especially now! You can't..."

He stopped.

His mouth opened, and closed, and opened again, before he finally managed to say, very softly, "D-did... did you say 'Saber?'"

"I... Shirou, it doesn't _matter_ anymore, not if you get hurt! Please, I swear I'll tell you everything, I..."

Something searing hot and blacker than the night tore past her face, and she smelled her hair burn as the bolt of magic reduced several strands to ash.

Shirou, eyes wide and face pale, looked down to see the smoking round hole, as wide as his fist and the edges cauterized to charcoal, burned into his chest. "I... I..."

" _Shirou!_ " Ilya screamed, trying to catch him as he fell, bearing his weight to the ground as softly as she could, tears welling up in her eyes. _Oh God, it... I think it went_ through _him, oh God, oh no, Shirou, no!_

She tried to wrap him in mana, draw his lips to hers and give whatever she could, work some spell, _anything_...

A prick, barely more than a needle touched the back of her neck, and drew a few drops of blood. A wave of cold light washed over her, and she screamed silently, a sudden, unimaginable _emptiness_ roaring through her where there had once been warmth, and light, and strength. Shirou fell from her grasp as she collapsed with him, not even feeling the blood welling up as she scraped her knees on the pavement.

Caster smiled down at her, Rule Breaker in her hand, and Ilya's command seals burning red in a curving pattern across her entire body. "You know, you should have listened to the boy and kept running.

" _Very_ dangerous people about."

* * *

 

For the second time that day, a hurricane of wind sent Lancer tumbling like a ragdoll, his tattered armor digging deep grooves in the earth as he was thrown about. He rolled to his feet, shielding his eyes against the wind, and snarled at the image of Rider standing triumphant in the crater where his greatest opponent had been.

 _Had been_.

Berserker was gone, for all intents and purposes. A few sizzling chunks of black and bronze meat, something that might have been the shattered remnants of a some of his larger bones, but he was gone. The Shadow, shockingly enough, had fared somewhat better... Lancer realized to his dismay that it really _had_ gotten stronger since it's encounter with Saber, as the swirling tendrils of darkness were slowing beginning to ooze from the cracks in the smoking ground, flowing together into a larger whole that was drawing away from Rider in self-preservation.

Possibly the most amazing opponent Lancer had ever faced, one who had pushed him to his limits and _beyond_ , to be destroyed with so little fanfare, by that interfering _bitch_... and the damn leash around his neck was coming back, already regrowing itself, ready to interfere _again_.

He stretched his hand, and his lance appeared in it, ready to cut the presumptuous witch down. She wanted to step into his concerns? She could take his opponent's place. The Shadow could eat _after_ he had his fill, thank you. He would have to hurry, though, at the rate it was gathering...

Strength?

Rider leaped away from the crater, taking up a perch in the trees and staring down at the scene in horror even as Lancer's smile grew wide with thrill.

Much like the Shadow itself, the remains of Berserker were stirring. They pulsed with power, bulging unnaturally, an interlinking web of fleshy tendrils snapping between them and pulling them into each other. Bone shards took on sudden coatings of muscle and snapped together, skin sloughed off black char to reveal smooth bronze beneath.

It didn't even take a full minute for a standing, humanoid shape to fill the crater. Blood dripped off exposed muscles freely, only to be quickly covered by a sheathe of bronze armored hide, and continue growing upwards, restoring shape to limbs, definition to muscles, stern features taking shape as a head emerged from the ruins of a severed neck.

 ** _Oh, my. Oh, yes, this will do,_** Caster's voice, sounding slightly giddy and breathless, rolled out over the clearing from the Shadow. **_I never imagined... hahahahaha, if he had remained on the Argo, how_ different _things might have been for us all! The_ power _of the man is... gods, intoxicating. Orgasmic. I can barely breathe for the touch of it!_**

 ** _Kill them, Berserker. Kill them all. Lancer, Rider, Assassin,_** **all _of them. Leave nothing alive on the mountain. Go_ mad, _my Herakles!_** She exulted, and Berserker threw back his head. What emerged was not a roar, no sound like anything in nature, a mechanical, formless sound that heralded the end of the last vestiges of humanity in the Servant Berserker, and the birth of a killing machine. His bronze skin darkened, his eyes glowed red as blood, and he charged, faster and stronger than ever before.

" _Very_ nice!" Lancer said, smiling widely.


	23. Paint it Black

Lancer laughed madly as Berserker charged, and that was how Rider realized this was going to be a long damn night.

Assassin leaped to the side, hurling daggers as he moved, and Rider mirrored the motion to the other direction, her chain-spike lancing out to intercept the giant's rush.

This was slightly less effective than scolding him.

The daggers, fired at bullet speed, still bounced off harmlessly. Rider herself had to alter the course of her dodge in mid-leap to avoid a ricochet taking her ear off. As for her own attack, the spike struck Berserker directly in the eye, a perfect stroke...and likewise bounced off harmlessly.

 _Regenerative abilities sufficient to survive Bellerophon, and a body so fortified lesser attacks simply do not cause damage..._ She thought, very nearly gaping in wonder. Durability on that level marked the Black Giant as something very nearly Divine, a being even farther beyond human than Rider herself. Further,everything she knew about Servants told her Berserker should not have been able to survive his heart and head being destroyed, and yet here he was, as if he had been recreated from nothing.

She had known Berserker was powerful, had tasted that power firsthand and nearly been destroyed in a single blow. But this...

The creature's charge, not slowed by the attacks that struck it, slammed into Lancer, the only one of the three who had not bothered to dodge in any way. Rather, with a laugh of delight he had tossed aside the shattered remains of his mask to clear his vision and met the Berserker head on, golden eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

Berserker crushed him.

The look of shock on the man's face was almost comical, as the giant smashed through his guard like a lion batting aside a kitten. Blood fountained from a gaping wound in the spearman's chest, and his lance went spiralling off into the darkness as the impact of the axe-sword tore it from his grip.

The spearman leaped back, holding out his arm and willing the spear to disperse into mana and reappear in his hand, and barely in time. The giant kept pace with his retreat effortlessly, the bloody eyes locked on Lancer, the weapon swinging in so hard that he felt bones in his arms crack simply from parrying it.

He'd gotten _stronger._ They were basically dead.

Lancer smiled and dodged beneath a swing, reveling in the pain as the air pressure of the slash sliced open the top of his head, before launching a counterattack that he knew would be useless.

No shame in a death like this.

* * *

 

There would be great shame, Saber knew, in dying like this.

Undone by treachery, maimed and tossed aside, alive only by the whims of an enemy. And now, as battle raged so close the shockwaves vibrated her teeth inside her head, she lay helpless, unable to repay her debts to enemy or ally alike. She knew Shirou still lived, at least but that was little comfort when the mountain shook with the sounds of a battle to the death.

The pain radiating from the bloody stumps of her legs was nothing compared to the raw humiliation she felt. Forgotten, weak, and helpless...almost more than she could bear.

And yet, there was nothing she could _do._ Her mana reserves were nearly exhausted, between the battle with Lancer and the touch of the Shadow. She willed all she could into her legs, demanding they heal with every fiber of her being, but...

A wave of cold, prickling nausea ran over her, leaving her head swimming. _Please. Please, just a little more. I need to stand, I need to fight, **please!**_

The chill ran through her again, a pulse of agony and sickening energy. The stumps of her legs tingled beneath the throbbing pain, but there was little visible change.

 _"Damn..."_ she growled under her breath, a shocking sight from the stoic king. The rage and shame that ran through her burned and chilled all at once, stripping away years of courtly training and aloofness to expose the frightened and angry girl underneath. The thought of such weakness, such lack of restraint, only filled her with greater fury, redoubling her efforts yet again.

She knew it was pointless. Neither Shirou nor Ilyasviel had any way to supply her with mana. What she sought to do now was the equivalent of trying to make an engine run without fuel, simply by willing it to do so. It was a waste of effort.

And yet she continued. Digging into reservoirs of power long empty and begging, then _demanding_ every last scrap her body and soul had to give. It was not enough, but she could not stop, the panic and fury and shame driving her on even if it killed her.

_Please. Please, I **need more. It cannot end like this.**_

**_I refuse._ **

**_I refuse._ **

**_I absolutely will not let it end like this._ **

And though she could not see it, her eyes closed tight in absolute concentration and her mind flooded with cold shame and burning rage, a few spots of black appeared on the fabric of her blue dress. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, they began to spread, like drops of blood in a pool of water.

**_Power._ **

**_Please, I need more._ **

* * *

It was cold.

The fire burning through his chest had felt cold, which Shirou supposed was ironic (though in reality it was less about irony and more about nerve damage, but he could be forgiven for not being aware of this). And since that moment, after a brief flash of pain, cold was all he felt.

His eyes were open, but he couldn't see.

His ears were intact, but he couldn't hear.

He felt no pain, no fear, nothing but a pervasive numbing chill that filled his body and locked his muscles in place. It was as if he had been frozen in a block of ice and was simply waiting for his mind to realize the body it inhabited was clearly dead.

He knew he should be upset about this, but he couldn't clearly recall why. Beyond the chill, it was not unpleasant; everything was a blank, misty haze. Given the pain he had felt in his life, he honestly found the idea of dying like this, painlessly and without fear, to be almost a relief.

And yet, he couldn't _quite_ let go. As tempting as it was to surrender to blackness, some nagging feeling continued to wear at him, like a tune he could not quite remember.

_Shirou..._

His name came to his mind, bypassing his useless ears and burning to the core of his consciousness, and with it came something like perspective.

A knight in silver, her hands clasped around a golden sword as she looked down over a battlefield. As he watched, the edges of the vision darkened and twisted, like a photo thrown into a fire, only without heat. Something cold and dark, eating away at her world; the knight stood, unknowing and unseeing, her magnificent sword gleaming a counterpoint to the encroaching night. A vision of past glory standing strong against the dark, proud and strong?

Or a mountain, seemingly invincible and yet being slowly eroded by wind and water despite its strength?

He couldn't tell, but the idea filled him with worry, and the sensation, the connection to something outside his own mind, brought a bit more sensation to his reawakening mind. Saber. he had come to... somewhere with her. And something had happened. Clearly nothing good, given what he saw and felt, but _what_ he could not say.

Another vision, blurry and vague, but... A girl, smaller and not so cold as the shining knight of the visions. She hovered, suspended in chains of darkness, her eyes closed in sleep or unconsciousness. Beside her, the witch stood, a smirk of sadistic glee on her beautiful face, those unnatural black eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Shirou..." the girl murmured, shivering in her sleep, her skin far too pale, and something clicked in his mind.

Ilya? She was in pain, and crying out for him instinctively, and the sheer _rage_ brought a clarity to him that he could never have found for himself.

He had found Ilya, alone and frightened. She had tried to warn him, tried to make him flee, but the cold fire had taken him, and then...

The witch. The woman in black. Ilya had a small cut on her neck.

_She hurt Ilya._

The fury burning through his veins coalesced into something cold, and strong, and iron-hard. With a shriek of metal on metal, something sharp pierced his insides, and he felt the agony keenly... But he also felt the hole in his chest seal. Pain replaced numbness, and strength flooded dead limbs.

Behind his eyes, something snapped. The world shimmered behind a haze of static as he stood, his eyes locked on the witch. She turned to face him, blinking in mild surprise, and spoke. Her words rang empty behind the blood thundering in his ears, the static filling his mind as long-unused paths of energy in his soul _snapped open..._

**_I...the...of my sword. Steel is...my blood._ **

Steel in his body, steel in his blood, steel in his mind. He needed a weapon, and felt the sting of a thousand, thousand blades inside, knitting broken flesh together, _begging_ to be used.

A knight on a broken hill, surrounded by the dark...and a blade of magnificent gold in her hand. An image, only, but an image with structure, and depth, and one that lingered in the eye of the mind, being analyzed and deconstructed without any true conscious thought on his part.

_She. Hurt. Ilya._

He extended his hands, and a broadsword of gold appeared in them; pale and pitiful compared to the real thing, a cheap glass forgery without substance, but the dark fled from it nonetheless.

The witch's eyes went much wider, and Shirou leaped at her, bringing the sword down.

* * *

 

Not so far away, the immaterial Archer smirked slightly.

 _All right,_ he thought. _Maybe he isn't_ quite _as hopeless as I thought._

" _Rin_ ," he murmured, " _how are you holding up_?"

Pale and sweating, the Tohsaka heir looked up at him with a grin despite her place kneeling on the sidewalk. "F-fine, as long as you...stay astral. The book takes more out of me than I thought, especially...when Rider goes all out. But it isn't anything I can't...handle."

Archer sighed. She was lying, obviously. Rider's use of her Noble Phantasm (and he could think of few other things that explosion might have been) had clearly drained the girl horribly, and with two Servants to maintain, even if they both remained astralized recovery would be slow. He needed to end this, and quickly.

The issue, of course, being that he _couldn't._ Even taking physical form now could put Rin in a coma, which left him with few options other than convincing possibly the most stubborn girl alive to change her mind about something. " _Rin. I know you want to help Emiya, but dying will not accomplish that. You need rest._ "

"Archer," she growled, pulling herself to her feet and limping onward. "Shut up. I am going to be fine. I just need to catch my breath before we find Emiya and whatever's kicking his head in this week. We can't afford to lose the alliance with Sakura."

 _Good God I once had a crush on this girl,_ Archer thought blankly. _Teenage-me really was an idiot. "Then order Rider to kill herself. Use the Command Seal on the book and order her to destroy the enemy at any cost, fight to the death. Then I can save Emiya and Saber myself and you'll be healthy."_

Rin scowled at him, or at least where she thought he was. "Not...an option. Need her power."

 _"If we have Saber on our side too?"_ Archer challenged. " _You can fulfill the terms of your oath to Sakura without the Servant. This was a bad idea from the start, and..."_

Rin rose shakily to her feet, and continued moving forward. "And... I thought I told you to _shut up."_

 _On the other hand,_ Archer thought with a sigh, _maybe my idiot younger self being drawn to her was just a case of like seeking like._

* * *

 

Like all great plans, Rider's current scheme began with stabbing Lancer through the neck.

She burst towards the lake behind the Temple at her very considerable full speed. Lancer and Berserker were technically faster in a dead sprint, but much like Assassin, this terrain favored Rider; she moved among the fallen trees like a shadow, never slowing down or stumbling, simply flowing past obstacles like they did not exist.

And as she did, she sent her spike-chain snapping backwards to, again: impale Lancer through the neck. The other Servant would normally have deflected it with ease, but the raging Berserker was still making him the focus of a crazed, unending assault. Lancer's defenses were fully tuned on the black giant, and even this was not stopping Berserker from making him look like he had been run through a shredder. The projectile, launched with no bloodlust at all, slipped through the distracted Servant's guard.

And then he was stunned by the impact… and more importantly, tethered to Rider. And Rider was moving, again: very, very fast.

It was all a plan, really. Though she had to admit that as she sprinted through the woods like a bullet and listened to Lancer being dragged behind her and slamming into fallen trees, screaming in indignation (as best he could with a pierced windpipe, which was really more gurgling) and spitting out dirt, she was rather enjoying the side benefits. But there was no time to stop and laugh, both because it was not dignified… and because Berserker was directly behind them, and if Lancer died before she finished things off, then this was all a wasted effort.

Finally, after what was only a few seconds but felt like several long, painful hours, she saw it. The lake, and with it a real chance to win some time to think, which Berserker was in no way giving them. Setting the next phase of the plan into motion, she leaped into the trees beside it… and swung the chain over her head in a wide arc, whipping Lancer off it and hurling him across the lake surface. He flew for a while, then struck water and skipped like a stone for about twenty feet before ramming face-first into the mud on the other side of the water. Perfect.

Berserker lunged out of the forest, roaring his fury and preparing to simply leap across the water to once again reach his prey. Rider smiled, and jumped as high in the air as she could, mirroring the giant's movements… at least until they reached the center of the lake, and she dove.

Berserker, when anchored, was basically immovable. Any attack capable of throwing him back or knocking him down when his feet were planted would be an attack which could destroy him entirely, and they clearly had nothing of the sort available.

But when he was in midair, well…

Rider dove upon him, feet-first, and hit the back of his head with enough force to crumple a battle tank like tinfoil. With nothing beneath his feet but air and water, Berserker was slammed downward by the sheer force of the strike, and although he wasn't harmed in the slightest, the impact served its purpose: it pushed him down though the lake water like a bullet, and into the thick, soft layer of silt at the bottom.

Beneath the water, her feet still planted on the giant, his great strength giving him no aid when he could find no solid ground to push against, Rider enacted phase two of her plan, and tore the covering from her eyes.

Light burned out through the black depths of the lake, as Rider finally cast aside her seal, and the eyes of Medusa opened.

* * *

 

Caster gazed at the young man with mixed shock and annoyance.

In one fell swoop she had, she'd thought, achieved nearly all of her goals. Sufficient force to destroy any Servant in the War was at her disposal. The secondary Grail conduit, the Einzbern model, was at her command, letting her easily ensure the power of all the Servants became Sakura's. And Shirou Emiya, the girl's final true link to the mortal world, lay mortally wounded. All was perfect; Sakura would soon become a goddess, and together she and Caster would make this world their playground, in vengeance against all who had wronged them both.

And then the boy had stood up.

The hole in his chest, a mortal wound indeed, was closing rapidly. Even now she could see some kind of metal blade stitching it shut. And even more alarmingly, he had _somehow_ projected a sword! Caster could recognize projection magic when she saw it, yes, but the boy had no raw materials, no aria for his casting, no magic circle. This would have been enough to startle her by itself, but the sword he had created, the aura…

It was a flawed creation, to be sure, but it was clear to her eyes. The blade was a _Noble Phantasm!_

Such a spellcrafting was beyond such an inferior Magus, to create a solid projection from nothing. But to create a sword of such obvious power and dignity, and do so seemingly at will and instantaneously? This was something even Caster herself could not manage, and stepping dangerously close to sorcery.

She opened her mouth to demand the secret of what he had done...and he lunged, bringing the sword down in a wide arc at her head.

Caster snapped a hand up, and a bolt of black flame roared forth; no holding back this time, the insufferable brat would be ashes.

Or rather, he _should have_ been.

The golden sword fell from the swing, drawing back seamlessly into a block with all the grace of a master. The metal sparked madly where the dark magic touched the blade, shattering blade and spell alike. Caster took some satisfaction in this...

Until he extended his hands and, with a wince of agony coloring his otherwise expressionless face, created the sword anew yet again and charged.

Caster took to the skies, the blade slashing through her skirts and continuing on to shatter against the pavement. A fragile thing, but...

She looked down, holy flame burning on her dress. Yes, letting that touch her flesh would have been unpleasant.

Still, she smirked. "An impressive trick, boy. A simple human magus, projecting swords of legend so easily! I had thought to kill you, but perhaps making a wand of your mindless husk would be more appropriate. I do so hate to be wasteful, and a swordsman can hardly threaten me in the..."

And just before she could say 'sky', the same damn black and white matched swords that Archer had thrown at her materialized in his hands. The boy looked up at her, and his eyes were empty, like the eyes of a doll, save for a spark of something simultaneously burning and cold.

"You. Hurt. Ilya," he murmured. And then he let the blades fly.

* * *

 

Berserker's gaze turned to her as he struggled to find purchase in the thick ooze that shifted and swirled beneath him with every motion. His eyes briefly locked on hers, and Rider realized she had miscalculated.

Her Mystic Eyes of Petrification were of the highest class, reserved for beings of myth and legend. Simply looking upon her eyes uncovered, even once, was a death sentence for the majority of beings; they would be paralyzed and eventually transmuted into stone simply by the power they emanated. Even closing their eyes was no defense; the mere image of the eyes in their mind's eye was enough to complete the process. The gaze of Medusa was certain death…

Unless, of course, the target had a great deal of their own magical power, in which case the 'certain death' became notably less certain. A particularly powerful source of mana could potentially protect the target. More power than any human could possess, of course…

But not in any way more than a Servant could have.

It was possible, in essence, for a Servant with B-ranked mana to resist the effects of her eyes, at least so long as they stayed at a distance. A Servant with A-ranked or higher would suffer nothing more than a weakening of their general physical characteristics.

And so, when Berserker did not even turn to stone a _little_ bit, Rider realized with a certain amount of chagrin that he was, in fact, possessed of innate mana roughly equivalent to his ridiculous physical strength.

And that she was standing on top of him at the bottom of a lake, and he _had nearly worked an arm free_ of the silt.

No creature was immune to her Mystic Eyes, totally. Even the most powerful of targets, if not paralyzed, would at least feel a pressure on their body and mind that slowed and weakened them. This was the only reason Rider escaped with her life.

Berserker spun at an angle she would have deemed impossible, with force so intense the water literally boiled along the edge of his axe. And yet, it was still slower than it _should_ have been, hampered by water, and Berserker's lack of footing, and Rider's bared power. She pushed off the giant's muscles, rocketing up toward the surface… and left behind nearly six inches of her violet hair, letting out an internal sigh of relief that a slight tugging on her scalp was the worst she experienced. She breached the surface, shooting up like a rocket…

And twisted in midair to bring her weapon to bear and deflect the black lance rocketing at her face.

The impact of the lunge as Lancer tried to take her face off carried them to the edge of the lake, Rider's heels digging up long trails of mud as she slid backwards in the damp soil. "Is this really the time?" she asked mildly as she averted her eyes, hoping to end the fight without making eye contact and turning a potential meat-shield into statuary. "He will be back soon, we should be planning."

Lancer blinked incredulously. "You stabbed me in the _neck."_

 _"_ And you clearly survived. So what is the problem?"

The air was tense for a few long seconds as Lancer held his weapon at the ready...until finally he chuckled and lowered it, saying, "Okay, you're more fun than I thought. Nice plan."

"Your approval fills me with joy," Rider said in the most carefully blank voice she could muster, her blindfold appearing once more on her face so as not to kill Lancer by accident. She then added, "I assume Assassin fled?"

"Sadly, no," whispered a soft voice from the tree line. "My Master has made it clear that Berserker must be stopped, and I...greatly doubt my ability to do so myself. I am unlikely to find another opportunity such as this."

"So the battle remains three to one, but..." Rider murmured. "Somehow, I still dislike our chances. We seem to have no way of permanently damaging the creature."

"I can, I think," Lancer said. "One of my Noble Phantasms is a curse that can kill anything with a heart. I don't know what his deal is, but if you can distract him long enough for me to charge and augment the spear with some of my runic spells, I can definitely inflict some major damage. Maybe enough to finish him off."

Rider tilted her head to one side. "I cannot call the Pegasus again today, and my Mystic Eyes are having little effect. There is not much else we can do..."

"And yet," Assassin said flatly, "I find the notion of putting our faith in a lunatic somewhat worrisome."

Lancer chuckled. "Says the killer for hire?"

"I am quite sane. I merely place no value on any life but my own. You, however, kill for fun."

Lancer shrugged, his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness. "And I can't have much fun if I'm dead. I have no problem with dying at the sword of such an amazing warrior, don't get me wrong. But if he kills me here, I'll never get a chance to finish my duel with Saber, or gut Caster like a fish for getting in my way. I'd rather live through this night."

The three Servants stared in silence... Before a muffled roar cut in, and the lake began to churn as something huge stirred in it.

"Damnation," Assassin muttered. "I should have fled after all. Very well, Lancer, we will hold him as long as we can. Your Noble Phantasm..."

"Will work," the other Servant answered with a smirk. "Unlike yours, it isn't something that can be blocked with a simple spell. If that big bastard has a heart in his chest, I can take him out. I just need time to prepare. Good luck, try not to die too fast."

"Your concern is touching."

* * *

 

The blades tore their way through the night, drawn to each other with Caster as the center point of their arc. The wings that were her cape billowed, pushing her backwards and leaving the blades to crash into each other, shattering.

Shirou barely noticed.

By the time the falling shards of metal vanished, he had already recreated the blades and hurled them again. Once again, they were pitiful, cracked and inferior, no stronger than glass...but glass could pierce flesh, and that was all that mattered.

His mind burned and his blood boiled. Every movement was agony, as the magic tore through circuits unused to its passage. Like exercising a muscle that had been long atrophied, each creation ripped through him with waves of pain and fatigue.

He barely noticed. He couldn't care. His mind was gone, leaving something more like a computer programmed for combat than any conscious action.

She hurt Ilya. He had sworn to-

_Darkness, comforting chill, the scent of snow and a gentle voice pleading for his aid._

_-sworn_ to protect Ilya. He would not fail. It really was that simple.

The swords flew again, and this time he created a new set the moment they left his hands. The whirling Kanshou and Bakuya (and had he been more aware he would have wondered how he knew those names) were joining once again, their arc centering on the witch. He had to keep her moving, give her no chance to cast her spells. The new set of blades flew.

A third appeared. Blood began to flow in a trickle from his nose; he ignored it. Pain was fuel.

The first flying set clashed and shattered, missing Caster by scant inches. She cursed as the second set slashed in, slicing into her cloak, and dove, feeling the wind from the blades on her skin...

And the third set, hurled straight at her as she dove, slammed home.

* * *

 

Servants did not dream. But if they did, Rider imagined her nightmares would be like this.

The forest was black as pitch, the aura of the charging Berserker a stifling miasma of heat and malice. Assassin and Rider flowed through the darkness with inhuman grace, but the being that hunted them was relentless and unstoppable. The floor was a maze of fallen trees and shattered stones waiting to turn each step into a fatal stumble, and yet even as they slid effortlessly through each obstacle, Berserker matched them simply by trampling through with raw force.

There was no battle. This was not a war, it was a desperate attempt to avoid slaughter. Rider was keenly aware with each crushed tree or gust of wind from a near miss that a single blow would at least cripple her; had Assassin not been harrying Berserker and offering him a second target, she suspected she would be dead already. As it was, there was no thought of counterattack or defeating the enemy. The one and only goal in her mind was survival, and with each passing second she feared it was more and more out of her reach...

Impact.

It was the barest of connections. A log shifted slightly under her foot, slowing her retreat by less than half a second. The axe barely brushed her left foot.

And she choked down a scream as the leg was basically obliterated from the knee down. She slammed into the ground, her graceful retreat becoming a bone-crushing roll across the forest floor that ended with her slamming into a rock with enough force to leave it as gravel beneath her. And Berserker's charge never slowed...

Lancer descended from the treetops like night given flesh. In his hands, the spear pulsed with cold energy; it didn't glow, but rather seemed to draw all light into itself, making the world darker simply by existing. "Hey, guys. Time to play!"

Berserker turned to meet the new, more obvious threat, but Lancer merely grinned. The lance pulsed, a corona of scarlet that somehow made the blackness darker rather than illuminating it, and roared, " ** _Gae Bolg!_** "

Rider fairly cried out in relief. The lance struck out like black lightning, straight toward Berserker's chest, almost more like a bolt of pure power than a weapon...

And mid-thrust, it turned at an impossible angle, almost a straight ninety degree swerve directly up, to impale Assassin through the heart in his treetop perch.

For a shocked second, the forest was utterly silent, before a smirking Lancer said, softly, "I _told you_ there would be consequences for interfering in my battle with Saber. And everyone knows Cu Chulann always keeps his promises..."

"What...you...are you _insane?!"_ Rider snarled.

Lancer winked at her. "Nah. Responsible pet owner."

As he spoke, the Shadow began to ooze out of the ground at his feet, tendrils twining up his legs to begin hungrily tearing at the corpse suspended from his lance. Assassin's body was ripped free mercilessly, tendrils of darkness tearing bloody chunks from it as it was pulled down into the creature's body.

Lancer chuckled. "Poor thing was starving, really. And hey, look, Berserker won't come near it!" he said, noting the giant, frozen in place at the edge of the Shadow's presence. "Guess Caster doesn't want him to get eaten until she's done testing him out. Lucky for me, I guess..."

The black giant turned, his red-eyed gaze locked on Rider, the final accessible target.

"... Not so lucky for you, though," Lancer added mildly.

* * *

 

 _What is he…?_ Caster thought, her eyes wide with some combination of fear and awe, and her hand clamped to wound in her chest.

The dagger had shattered on impact, showering her torso with razor-edged shards of metal that dug into her like bullets, piercing deep and slashing organs. She could barely breathe, hardly _think_ … and the boy was still coming at her, more a killing machine than a human.

He was not a Servant. He was barely even a magus, from what she had seen. So how was he _doing_ any of this? Drawing on the same ridiculous powers of Servant Archer, without even that buffoon's status as a Heroic Spirit to justify it?

The magus in her wanted nothing more than to study him, preferably whilst he was still alive. Dissect him from the feet up, poring over every magic circuit, putting each and every drop of blood under a scope. He was a marvel, an impossibility of magecraft as she knew it. And in her perspective, very little was impossible.

But the woman in her realized very quickly that living was much more important.

Lining her body, the massive Command Seal began to glow.

* * *

 

Rider, limping on the stump of a foot and barely able to move, tried her best to get into the treetops where her arms could serve in place of legs. She could tell instinctively that she was _not_ going to make it, that Berserker's lunge would destroy her in a single swing…

And halfway to her, even as he was bringing the axe down, space around the giant shattered like glass, and he vanished.

Rider collapsed to the forest floor from a combination of shock and exhaustion, staring in befuddlement at the space the creature had been occupying only seconds earlier.

"Huh," Lancer murmured. "Well. Did not see _that_ coming. Kind of dull. Well, I guess ya can't win 'em all. You can go, I guess."

"W-what…?"

"I'd rather kill you when you're at your best," Lancer said amiably. "More fun for me, and the pet here gets a bigger meal if you're all charged up and vigorous. Besides, I don't think it notices you…" he chuckled, gesturing at the Shadow with a smirk. "Either you're a bad girl, or you keep good friends. Not really important, I guess. Buzz off before I change my mind."

Rider, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, shifted to her astral form and vanished from sight, making her way to the temple gates, no longer hampered by the pains of a physical body.

Lancer sighed. "You know, I really do hate an anticlimax. This War has just been incredibly _boring…_ "

* * *

 

Berserker appeared out of nowhere with a gigantic roar of fury, and batted Shirou roughly half a kilometer down the street with a single monstrous swing that shattered his sword into a thousand pieces. Thus proving once and for all that Lancer was well and truly hated by the universe.

Shirou rolled to his feet, wiping blood from his eyes. Steel knitted together under his skin, closing a dozen minor cuts. Steel surged along his bones, holding together a broken arm. The enemy was strong, stronger than Caster, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't allow it to harm Ilya. He would never allow anything to harm her. He looked on the giant's weapon, analyzing it down to the smallest detail… yes, with the original so close, it might even be simpler to copy, and such a powerful sword could be just what he…

" _Emiya!_ Get back!" Rin shouted, and things went horribly, horribly wrong.

Shirou turned, the shock of her presence breaking through the trance where pain had not. He had been so focused, so dedicated on Ilya to the expense of all else, that he hadn't even spotted her approaching. And she looked _bad_ … her skin was two shades too pale, and her hair was plastered to her forehead by a thick layer of sweat. She was visibly shuddering, as if even standing was too much effort for her at that moment. "Tohsaka?! What are you…"

" _Move_!" snapped a strong, familiar voice. A shock of static ran through Shirou's mind as a rough hand threw him forcefully aside, but even as he flew down the street (Again!) he could see Archer, a massive silver broadsword in his hand, parrying an downward blow from Berserker and smoothly turning with it, using the giant's own strength to throw him off-balance and flip him head-over-heels.

"Idiot teenagers," Archer muttered, assessing the battlefield. Emiya was on the verge of collapse; he didn't feel it from the looks of him, fighting on instinct with almost no conscious thought behind it. Archer, however, knew the signs, saw the steel moving inside the boy for what it was. His powers were in overdrive, overrunning a body not prepared for them. Whatever the boy had been doing before they'd arrived, it had not been good for him. He suspected Saber's sheathe would mitigate the worst of the long-term harm, but Shirou Emiya needed to power down and get the Hell out of combat before his body exploded in swords.

Ilya…

She hovered in an empty nightmare, eyes closed and expression locked into fear and pain. Black magic curled around her as she floated a few inches off the ground, looking for all the world like a puppet hanging on invisible strings. Archer resolved very quietly and calmly to torture Caster to death for this.

Ah, but Berserker was coming to his feet again. He turned to Rin, and said, "Rin, I know that Rider weakened him quite a bit. I can probably take out his remaining lives if you can get Ilyasviel and Emiya out of here and let me fight freel-"

He stopped, and blinked a few times in some combination of shock and denial.

Rin had collapsed, and was lying unconscious on the pavement in a crumpled heap. Shirou Emiya tried to stand up and go to her… only to fall to his knees with a shout of surprised agony and the screeching of metal-against-metal coming from _inside_ his legs. Ilya gasped in pain, shifting slightly in the cocoon of magic that suspended her off the street.

The black giant stood to his full, imposing height, and turned to look down on Archer.

"Well… shit," Archer said, eloquently.

* * *

 

Shirou's world was agony.

He didn't know what had caused much of it; it was a deep, burning pain not unlike the pain he often felt in his magecraft practices, but spread across his entire body, flowing along his limbs like his entire nervous system had been replaced with molten lead.

He had no idea where the agony came from, or… indeed, most of what he had been doing the last few minutes. He had vague recollections of events; drawing a sword from thin air, catching Caster off-guard and pushing the advantage before she could realize just how very blow-uppable he was. But it was vague, faint, seen through a haze of static. The very events themselves simply _felt_ alien, like he had been seeing a movie with a lead actor who looked suspicious like him, rather than remembering events he'd taken part in.

The pain was certainly real, though.

Even now, he could barely move. Every attempt to stand had resulted in metal screaming in his limbs and a great deal of pain and dizziness. He could crawl, but he really wasn't sure if he should be crawling to Rin or Ilya at the moment; he knew that he needed to save Ilya, of course, that was the most important thing ( _And why was it so important?_ ) but he didn't know if he _could_. Rin would know how to destroy the spell around her, maybe. Rin would have a plan.

If Rin were _awake_. And if he couldn't wake Rin up, and wasted time trying when it was impossible, then Ilya might end up dead and it would be _his fault_ , and… no, that didn't bear thinking about.

The key point was that he needed to do something. Archer was doing his best, but the strokes of Berserker's sword were so vicious that his blades cracked with every touch, and with the three of them so close to the battle (well, the two of them… he firmly suspected that Archer didn't really care if Shirou himself died or not) he could hardly manage to counterattack, needing to expend all his energy parrying and trying to draw the battle away from the wounded.

Caster came to her feet, the wounds in her chest already mostly closed. She did not look happy, and she raised a hand to aim at the battling Servants. Shirou realized, even through the fog on his mind, that this was certain death; Berserker could withstand spells that would easily kill Archer. All she had to do was blow the battlefield to Hell and not even worry about her own ally (and why _was_ he her ally?!).

They were all going to die. Rin, and Archer, and Ilya, and he couldn't protect _anyone_ , there was absolutely nothing he could do to…

He stopped.

He looked down at his hand, where two Command Seals still glowed cheerily.

He fought the urge to smack himself.

* * *

 

Saber was alone, and exhausted, and wrapped in cold sweat, and she would not surrender.

Her mana reserves were gone, entirely. She knew this, and yet she was not dead. She did not know how; she should have faded away some time ago. There was no possible way she could still be fighting, and yet she continued, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the process where her power had failed her. She was not channeling her mana into healing; she was not _capable_ of it.

She just would not surrender… and somehow, her legs were on the verge of healing.

The nubs that now stretched down from her legs were new, and young, coated in pink flesh like an infant's and sensitive to the touch. Even as she watched, she could see the beginnings of bone beginning to slowly grow down from them to form the beginnings of what would be her feet. It was impossible. She did not question it.

Her dress, once perfectly, serene blue, now looked as though it had been rolled through a trough of black ink. She paid it no mind.

**_More. More. Please, I cannot surrender now, I_ ** **need _to…_**

_Stop,_ whispered something deep inside her, something she could barely feel past the pain and desperation that consumed her. _Stop, before it's too late._

**_I've come too far and lost too much. My friends, my family, my kingdom. Everything has fallen to dust. I cannot surrender now, or it was all for nothing. This wish, this chance to make it all right, it_ ** _is a lie. A deceit. I have to turn back, I'm walking into something from which there is no return. I have to **keep fighting. There can be no compromise, no surrender. Shirou needs me. I swore that I would protect him. I promised Irisviel's daughter I would protect him, and she** would not want me to do this. To destroy myself for her sake. I cannot do this thing, I **cannot turn back,** I have to stop **fighting, fighting to the end and drawing deep from every source of power I can, I need**_ **more, _I_** _need to… to…_

" _Saber!"_

The call came to her mind, and with it the rush of power, a shocking burst of red that forced energy into weary muscles. A Command Seal.

"Shirou…" she whispered, and with renewed determination, she began to stand…

* * *

 

Archer stepped back, the tip snapping off his blade as Berserker's axe shattered the weapon.

 _Damn. Damn, damn, damn…_ he thought. He couldn't Break the Phantasms he was projecting without blowing up his sister, his Master, and technically himself. And as a result, he was rather low on available weapons that could actually _hurt_ Berserker, much less kill him, and on the occasions he _had_ one…

A bolt of black flame struck the black giant, exploding harmlessly around him but hurling Archer backwards in a mad tumble. He rolled with the impact, coming to his feet and trying to ignore his new burns, because Berserker would be after him _very_ quickly and he needed a sword. Kanshou and Bakuya materialized in his hands…

And shattered because they were not _remotely_ good enough against an enemy of this caliber. A piece of black shrapnel sliced a hole in his cheek, but more dangerously he felt yet more strain on the bones in his arms… as always, even _blocking_ Berserker hurt. He had five, maybe six remaining exchanges in him before Berserker simply broke his bones from the sheer strain. His inner swords could do some good, perhaps, but Archer did not have Shirou's unique healing abilities. His healing as a Servant was limited by Rin's condition, and…

A bolt of chilling light, no wider than a finger, pierced his shoulder and sent him spinning to the floor once again.

 _Dammit…_ her murmured, feeling his right arm going numb and rolling just barely ahead of Berserker's street-shattering attack. This was beyond him. Berserker and Caster working in tandem would have been a nasty match-up in any case, but with his abilities so hamstrung? He had no chance, and he knew it. But he could hardly manage to escape while carrying three people, either. At least not without some kind of…

Distraction.

Space warped and shattered, and a hurricane ripped down the street. Something that shone silver and golden in the moonlight slammed into Berserker in mid-charge, and something Archer had not seen since his own life as a human happened:

Berserker was forced back through main strength.

The black giant skidded backwards against his will, his heels digging up divots in the pavement. Next to him, a chunk of his axe-sword landed, embedding itself in the pavement. The shattered edge of the weapon glowed red-hot. Berserker, mindless with unbending fury, nonetheless stopped and waited, showing the closest thing to caution he was mentally capable of.

Saber stood alone, facing him.

Archer and Caster alike stared in undisguised shock at her appearance. The woman's silvery armor was battered and slashed, looking like it had been through a war. Her golden sword stood unveiled, the wind around it spent and blood running down it. Her dress was soaked in blood… or was it something darker? For the love of all that was holy, she wasn't even wearing _shoes._ Everything about her appearance screamed that she was on her last legs.

And yet, Berserker… _Berserker…_ would not approach her. The aura around her was bloody and dangerous, saying to the world that approaching her would lead to nothing but pain. What stood there in the cracked, smoking wreckage of the street was not a girl or even a knight, but an embodiment of death given human shape.

"Saber…?" Shirou whispered, both out of confusion, and to make sure it was actually his Servant that he was looking at. It was the same golden-haired girl he had summoned, but every instinct in his body was _screaming_ that something was horribly, horribly wrong, that he should flee for his life…

"Archer," she said, a low growl under her tone. "Please get Ilyasviel and Shirou to safety. I will deal with the enemy."

"Against both of them? Saber, we should…" Archer began.

"No! Saber, we can't just leave you here alone to…" Shirou began.

" _Do it!_ " she snapped. "I cannot guarantee the safety of anyone who remains here!"

"But…"

" _Shirou, be silent and **go!** " _She snarled, and the street cracked under the pressure of her mana swirling.

Shirou was silent.

"What," Caster snapped, "Are you waiting for? _Kill her!_ "

Berserker roared, lunging forward, his cracked weapon descending with hurricane force… and meeting Excalibur, slashing upward with power that matched the giant's blow head-on. The street shattered beneath them, the shockwaves so intense Archer actually felt himself moved backward an inch by them. Saber, moving like lightning, so quickly even Berserker seemed sluggish in comparison, slashed forward again while the giant was still off-balance. Bronze flesh parted, and crimson blood sprayed across the street in a wide arc as she laid his chest open.

Archer shook his head. Not the time.

He ran, ignoring the titans clashing behind him, and picked Rin up over his shoulder, using his wounded side to support her. Turning his gaze to Ilya, he projected a sword in his good hand, slashing the golden blade through the aura of magic. The spell flickered and died, and the sword vanished as he knelt to scoop the girl up before she hit the pavement. "Rest easy, little one," he murmured. "I have you."

He then turned to Shirou Emiya… and said, "Get up and run on your own," before sprinting away with the girls.

He told himself, of course, that his body was not in good condition and the two smaller girls were the best he could manage an escape with. And that given Saber's… _odd_ condition, he was not 100% sure that he _wanted_ her and Emiya to survive this battle, for fear they might end up a bigger threat than the Servants they faced.

But a small, vindictive part of him could simply admit he didn't like Shirou all that much.

* * *

 

Berserker's blade struck again and again, and each time Excalibur met it firmly. There was no need to dodge or parry, none of the tactics she had once needed against even Lancer. Power raged through her, pounding in her heart, flowing in her blood, rippling through her soul like a song. She felt impossible, stronger than she had been even in life.

She slammed her weapon against Berserker's, and fought the urge to laugh as the massive giant was blown forced backwards yet again. Caster tried to aid him, hurling wave after wave of black fire, and each spell washed off of Saber like water off a rock. Her magic resistance was already second to none, and the way she felt _now…_ power poured off her, a limitless Prana Burst that coated her in protection and lent her blows enough force to repel even the mighty Berserker. Caster's pathetic conjurings could no more harm her than a gentle breeze could…

Berserker's axe rang in again, striking with such force her sword nearly flew from her hands. A pale azure aura surrounded the weapon, and she growled in frustration. The damnable witch had spotted her own weakness, and lent her power to her cat's-paw. Simple reinforcement, but…

**_More. It's still not enough._ **

No, it was not. She was pressing Berserker, facing him down, but not _defeating_ him. She had not struck a fatal blow. Caster was still there, still able to support him. She needed to _destroy_ them, utterly. A single massive blow that would end the threat they both posed, forever.

Light gathered in Excalibur, a glimmering aura of gold that surrounded the blade and tripled it in both length and width, turning the weapon from a simple sword to a blazing pillar of destructive power. She struck out, and Berserker's weapon chipped yet again, Caster gasping in shock as her spell of enhancement wavered after a single blow.

**_Deeper. More power. Make them suffer, make them_ ** **pay _for everyone they've hurt, every indignity._**

They were killers. Inhuman monsters in league with a being composed of a thousand wandering curses that fed on everything it touched. Caster needed to be destroyed, no matter the cost.

The aura of power around her sword grew, shining more brilliantly still, the light casting odd shadows across her face, hiding her features…save for deep green eyes that seemed to shine, ever so briefly, with an odd yellow sheen. She swung in again, and the energy seared through Berserker's divine armor like it was no more than cloth, cutting the creature's arm cleanly down to the bone, leaving it hanging limply by a detached strand of flesh. Berserker did not even react to the injury, beyond switching his weapon to the other hand and continuing to rain blows upon her.

**_More. More. MORE._ **

Saber screamed, raising her weapon above her head with both hands, the power building in it reaching a crescendo…

And as Shirou watched in horror from the sidelines, unable to stand, unable to even move against the forces being unleashed… something shifted. Like rot in a piece of fruit, like blood in a pool of water something cold and black was growing in the pillar of gold, something wholly, utterly, _wrong…_

" ** _Excalibur!_** " Saber roared, and brought the blade swinging down.

* * *

 

_It could not think._

_It could not reason, or feel, or react with anything but fury. Its mind was a computer programmed only for destruction, and so it could not fear the killing light, nor think to step aside. It merely charged in as always, uncaring about its own existence, to kill that which its master commanded it to kill..._

_Until the light struck, and with that cold, crushing wave of annihilation,_ something stirred.

Heracles, called Hercules by those who conquered his homeland long after his own death, had a conscious thought. This was not impressive, normally (though certainly Chiron would have said differently, particularly on lesson days!), but it was the first he'd had since his summoning into this time and place. A sadness, that… he felt the scars of the many battles he had faced her, and not one of them had been given to him for enjoyment. Saber, in particular, would have been a battle worth _having_.

There was no shame in a death like this, he knew. The power that tore into him was an unearthly force that challenged the realm of the Gods, and his divine strength had been all but exhausted before Saber had even arrived. Indeed, a death like this is what he would have wished for his own life; not the poison of a coward corrupting his lover, no pyre of sadness and regret pushing his soul to Olympus. Cut down by a warrior greater than himself. _That_ was the way to go. And yet…

Yet, he could not be satisfied.

The bolt of killing light tore through him, and the few remaining reincarnations he had left burned out one by one, unable to stem the tide of power. After what felt like an eternity, the torrent stopped.

Caster had fled, of course. Nothing unexpected from _that_ one. Vile thing. But Saber…

The swordswoman stood, staring at him wide-eyed. She had expected him to be dead, he assumed… so young. Old in some ways, beyond her years, but still a simple child in many ways. She couldn't even tell that he was, indeed, defeated… dead on the inside and out. And as his body began to fade into dust, he smiled down at her.

"An impressive sword, Saber. Your power is… tremendous. But I have seen those eyes before, young one… that rage. It haunted my every waking moment, ruined my life and legend. Master it. Never let it control you, as it did me," he said. "Someone so lovely would make a poor Berserker."

There. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing; he had wanted to say _something_ to her. And while she mostly looked confused and a bit worried by his words, at least she had them. What she chose to do with his advice, was up to her.

While he still had lips to form the expression, he smiled sadly. _"Ilya… I wish I could have protected you a little bit longer…"_

With a final shimmer of light, and a light breath of wind, the remains of Servant Berserker scattered.

Not so far away, a lost little girl began to cry in her sleep.

* * *

 

Saber shuddered, the power that had sustained her fleeing to leave her knees weak, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She fell, propped up only by the sword she dug into the pavement to steady herself. "Shirou…" she muttered. "Are you… all right?"

No reply. Worried he had been caught in the crossfire, or Caster had somehow returned from her panicked flight to take revenge, of that his injuries had been worse than she'd judged, Saber turned to seek him…

And found him, staring at her wide-eyed. Something cold and painful gripped her heart, then, as she recognized the expression in his eyes was not awe, but fear. The same expression her people had shown so often, when the 'inhuman' King Arthur sacrificed a village to save a city, or passed another long year of battle without aging a day…

"Shirou," she said, fighting back tears. "I… I know that to be so close to such a battle can be traumatizing. I am sorry. But there was no time to secure you, and…"

"Not… not that," Shirou said, eyes wide. "You… what _happened_ to you…?!"

She blinked. "Shirou what are you…" she began, before following the path of his vision to see what he was looking at. And when she saw it… the expression on her own face quickly shifted to match the terror on his.

The sword in her hands, was still mostly the golden weapon she had carried all her life, still Excalibur to her eyes. But the delicate azure inlay which decorated it…

She ran shaking fingers over gently curving designs and runes of Faerie script which had become, inexplicably, jet-black... and wondered if perhaps Shirou's fear of her was a great deal less intense than it should have been.

Not so very far away, floating as a barely visible shadow on the winds, Caster watched over the scene.

Slowly, delicately, invisible lips curved into a delicate smile.

The night grew darker.


	24. Boy Meets Girl

Saber and Shirou walked slowly, heading in the direction that Archer had vanished. Both were exhausted and in a considerable amount of pain, but Saber knew that was not the reason for the oppressive silence that followed them.

She looked down at her armor and dress, already beginning to repair themselves from her mana. The breastplate and gauntlets were the same mirrored silver they always were, but the gown beneath them had shifted, for no reason she could explain, from its usual blue to a deep black. The color in the runes on her sword had likewise stayed the black it had shifted during the battle against Berserker, and she knew nothing good could come of this. Excalibur was a weapon forged outside of the world, in the eternal realm of the faeries. While this made it a great weapon, anyone who knew anything about faeries knew that this did not necessarily make it a _good_ weapon. Was it possible the holy blade had somehow been altered by the curse of the Shadow coming in contact with her?

Or, more distressingly, was Excalibur changed because the one being 'altered' was Saber?

She did not approve of the implication, but the power she had used against Berserker, and the odd case of her outfit… these things could have no other explanation she could think of. And she could _feel_ something wrong, a core of coldness within, where her Prana supply was meant to be. She could not call it outright evil; without it, she would have faded away into nothingness by now, and it had come to her aid when she had needed it to protect Shirou. But if it was truly derived from the Shadow (And what else could it be?), she could hardly call it good, either. Particularly given the fact that she could hardly deny it altered her personality along with enhancing her power. And…

From nothingness, Archer appeared, landing in front of them as silently as a cat. "Come," he said. "Rin and Ilya are this way. I believe we need to talk."

Shirou turned to look at Saber briefly, and she felt a certain pain at the concern in his eyes. He was not sure he could trust her, and that was difficult to argue with; she doubted she could trust _herself_. But still… it hurt. More than she would have expected.

Shirou turned from her, and nodded at Archer. "Yes. Yes, I think we do."

* * *

 

The worms in the pit beneath Matou Manor hissed, echoing the fury that Zouken felt roiling through him.

"Correct me if I am wrong," he said to Caster, the calmness in his tone doing little to disguise the rage in his black eyes, "but it seems to _me_ that this night's endeavors have been, in sum, absolutely _worthless."_

"Appearances can be deceiving," Caster murmured, looking down at the worms with distaste. They were of no danger to her, of course, but the magic behind them was quite dark, vile, bloody stuff, even by her standards. And more to the point, it was also just kind of gross. Caster might well have subsisted on the devoured souls of the innocent, but at least she wasn't quite so slimy about it.

"Then I would consider myself _quite_ deceived. Assassin has been destroyed, and given the nature of the incomplete product and how oddly it has been behaving, this leaves _Lancer_ our only piece on the chessboard that is completely reliable. A status somewhat damaged by the fact he is _not reliable!_ " Zouken snapped. "In addition, not only did we fail to claim Berserker, but it has been taken in by the Einzbern Grail, rather than ours! The power of the Servants is divided between the Grails, three to one. The situation can still be salvaged, but if the young Einzbern girl takes any more, powering the Great Grail may become literally impossible, and all of this will be for _nothing!_ "

Caster fought the urge to smile. He didn't know, then. He had not seen the changes in Saber, the darkness taking root. Caster herself did not fully understand it; perhaps one of the curses that made up the projection of the Shadow had remained within her, growing and spreading. Or perhaps even the touch of such profound darkness had been enough to awaken some hidden, inner darkness in the pure silver knight… yes, Caster found that image far more interesting, the release of Saber's inner passions and deep-seated bitterness, tarnishing and freeing the lovely young thing all at once. Either way, it promised to be a _very_ interesting development, yes, and one she felt _no_ need to share with her 'associate.'

Instead, she drew on a darker and annoying thought that had been plaguing her, and narrowed her eyes. "I am not your Servant, wretched thing. Do not think you can speak to me as if I am. And in any event, you should perhaps recall that _you_ are the one who allowed Sakura to be taken from your home, and Rider _subverted against us!"_

Zouken stopped to look at her, blinking a few times… before slowly smiling. "Ah, yes. I had forgotten about that. At least some of the news is good."

Caster's jaw dropped. " _Good_ news?!"

Zouken chuckled softly, a sound with absolutely no joy in it. "Quite, quite! My dear, sometimes I feel that you do not understand Sakura's nature at all. The location of her body is of no consequence, as it hardly alters my control of her heart. I can bring her back to this place whenever I wish. Rather, this will be a helpful change for her. She has been 'saved' and taken in by a kindly new ally, and when I again reclaim her, the hope and joy this has wrought will be a poison in her soul. So indeed, consider this not a setback, but rather once again improving a product that was already nearly perfect."

Caster fought the urge to burn the hideous little troll down to ash where he stood, knowing it would be a waste of time. "So you say," she growled. "However, _some_ of us have more immediate concerns, and as such I must note that your original complaints were largely accurate. At the current moment, our battle strength is a bit underdeveloped. The Shadow itself has grown more powerful with the devouring of Assassin, but Lancer clearly cannot be relied on and…"

"You yourself are a weakling, who has been defeated by other Servants time and again when she sought battle?" Zouken asked with a small chuckle, enjoying the sight of Caster's obvious fury. "Worry not, worry not. The Caster class is meant to carve out a fortress and defend it, not fight the other Servants in the field. Now that we have reclaimed the Temple, you can at least play to your own strengths once again. And now that I have considered the matter somewhat…"

He looked down upon the pit, a place where even the worms had fled, and the writhing darkness within, and his smile grew cold. "Yes, I think there may be a way we can salvage something more from this night's fiasco." He tapped his cane twice on the stone floor, the sound ringing out unusually loud, overpowering even the chittering of the insects throughout the cellar. Caster watched, eyes wide, as the Shadow thrashed furiously, its tendrils whipping out, tearing gashes in the stone, and Caster winced as a lance of sudden pain flashed through her mind…

A white skull appeared in the dark pool, and her eyes widened. "Assassin…?" she murmured, unsure if she should be believing the evidence of her eyes, but hardly able to deny it. The Servant had been utterly destroyed, his heart pierced and his body broken into mana, and yet….

Zouken chuckled. "Yes, and no. A facsimile only, a corpse doll with no mind or will. A complex puppet to create, and of far less value than a true Servant, but it serves to recoup some of this nights losses in a way."

And indeed, the thing that crawled out of the pool seemed to bear this explanation out. In form, it was Assassin, but it moved without the Servant's efficiency or insectile grace, more like a marionette on strings than the monstrous agility Assassin had shown. More tellingly, though, while Assassin stood in front, freely visible, she could feel no vitality at all. Just a bizarre emptiness, like the echo of a Servant's power after the life behind it had already faded away.

Caster fought the urge to shudder at the skin-crawling sensation that ran through her. True, she bore no love for Assassin due to his role in Souchiro's death, and had truly been quite cheered to learn of his own horrible fate. But that did not change that the man had been a Heroic Spirit, a being of myth and legend. Even if she had hated him, she had at least had a modicum of respect for his abilities and intellect. To simply… prop up his corpse and use it as a puppet like this seemed somehow profane, even by her standards.

Something horrible came to her mind. "The first Servant you targeted," she whispered, "was me. If you had succeeded…"

Zouken's smile told her all she needed to know on that front. Truthfully, it was a blessing… it was good to know beyond a doubt that even if he had never touched Souichirou or Sakura, she would still find ample reasons to hate him. Though, as loathsome as it was, she could hardly argue with the fact it might be useful to have this…thing… under their power, or…

She stopped in mid-thought as an idea struck her. She raised a hand and pressed it against the desiccated flesh of the corpse puppet. There _was_ a power thrumming inside it, dead as it was, and it wasn't as though she didn't have access to quite a lot of mana at the moment. And her Temple was fully set up, a workshop in which she could create oh so many wonders, if she had only the time and interest…

She smiled like a satisfied cat. "An interesting idea," she said, "but if you will permit me to access these materials and a day or so in my workshop, I _may_ have a better one."

The old mage arched an eyebrow. "And I am to trust you with such a priceless doll? I cannot reanimate another Servant so without months of preparation."

Caster's smile grew, and there was nothing pleasant in it at all. "Oh, trust me. When you see what I have planned, you'll be _very_ happy you did."

For now.

* * *

 

Shirou stepped into Tohsaka manor's dining chamber with Archer and Saber to find Rin already there, sitting at the long dining table sipping a cup of tea. She was a shade too pale to be healthy, and he saw what looked like dried blood on her ears, but she was at least conscious again. "Emiya," she said, inclining her head to them. "Sorry about all this. I know you'd probably rather be at your home, but the boundary field here is more solid. Between that and our combined Servants, it makes for a better fortress at the moment."

Shirou sighed. "That's fine. I can't stay long, but until I know what's going on, I…" he stopped, blinking in confusion, before saying, "Wait. Where's Ilya?"

Rin rolled her eyes. "The little brat? She's sleeping, and don't think I'm not happy about it. The last thing I need after I finished bleeding out my ears is her throwing her insults into them."

Shirou blinked in open confusion. "How do _you_ know Ilya? I know that you're in charge of magic in Fuyuki, but I didn't think you kept track of tourists visiting their families."

Rin blinked right back, before tilting her head to one side. "I… that… _what_?"

"Ilya. She's in Japan visiting relatives. I was shocked to see her out wandering tonight, but she has a bad habit of it, so…"

Rin's jaw dropped. "You… you don't _know_."

"I don't know what?"

"She… she was in your _house_ , you idiot! She's saved your life at least three times, she… you didn't sense it at _all?!_ " Rin snapped in disbelief. Archer, who had faded to spirit form after they had arrived at the house, to preserve Rin's mana, could be heard chuckling in barely disguised glee at Shirou's discomfort. Rin would have told him to stop being a dick, but she frankly couldn't blame him for this one. It was just… it was beyond belief. He couldn't be _that clueless_. "Saber was right there! In the room! She didn't _tell you?!"_

Shirou's confused expression got even more uncertain as he turned behind him to face Saber, who had the good graces to stop being worried about her own issues and start being extremely embarrassed about the fact a girl half her size and roughly one-billionth her effective fighting strength had somehow managed to strong-arm her into this deeply uncomfortable situation. "I… Master, it was not so much… that is to say, she was _very_ persuasive, and… well, it seemed to be for your benefit, so…"

Archer's laugh rang through the old house once again, and Shirou fought the urge to start punching the air randomly in hopes he somehow hit the invisible Servant. He settled for saying, in as patient a tone as he could manage, "I am starting to feel like I'm the only one in the room who has no idea what the conversation is about. So will someone please, please explain this to me?"

Rin rubbed a hand to her aching forehead, her tone indicating she was in literal pain from having to explain something so mind-bogglingly obvious. "'Ilya,' as you so cheerfully keep referring to her. Is Ilyasviel von Einzbern. Of the Einzbern clan. And, until very recently, the Master of Berserker."

Shirou was silent for a long, long, time. Nearly minutes of straight silence without any sound at all, not even breathing as far as Rin could tell. Finally, after she started to wonder if she had maybe just rendered him catatonic, he finally spoke. And it was possibly the last thing she had expected to hear:

"Oh," he said.

That was it. Just 'oh'. Not 'oh, how could she have hidden this from me, her ally?!' or 'oh, Rin, you fool, I already knew that, I was playing dumb to throw you off balance' or even 'oh, God, I am so, so stupid for not picking up on this earlier. Just 'oh.'

"… And?" Rin asked, finally.

"Can I talk to her?" Shirou asked, after a few seconds of thought. "It's just that she'll be scared after everything that's happened, and it might help to see a friendly face."

Archer's laughter actually got louder at the expression on Rin's face.

* * *

 

Ilyasviel woke up, and almost immediately wished she had not.

First, and foremost, her fuzzy mind immediately latched on to the fact that the bedding was hard, cheap, and scratchy. Say what you would about Einzbern manor, the beds were glorious. This particular room, wherever it was, _screamed_ of a cheapskate who could not be bothered to properly appoint her (and Ilya's intuition told her it _was_ a her) guest room. Possibly because she was a barbarian who had no guests.

And then the events of the night came back to her, and the bedding was the least of her worries. Squeaking in dismay, she threw off the covers and screamed, _"Shirou!"_ Oh no. Oh _no,_ he had seen her, he had seen her in the _War_ , and Caster had been there, and he knew, he _had_ to know, and… Oh God. He had been hurt. Was he _okay_? Berserker wouldn't have saved him if she wasn't there to command him, and Saber had been nowhere to be seen, and…

And…

Oh, God.

Berserker.

She turned her mind inward, and felt along the channels of her magic circuits for her Command Seals. And just as she feared, they were cold and empty. The seals themselves were still there, but… but…

Tears ran down her cheeks freely, as she said, softly, "Berserker, come to me."

Nothing happened, of course.

Louder, she snapped, "Berserker, by the Command Seal, I order you to attend me!" Again, she was met only by silence, and the chill feeling in the pit of her stomach grew deeper, into something sharp and terrible as grief mingled with the existing fear despite her.

"Berserker…" she said, a sob entering her voice unbidden. This was ridiculous. Berserker was not her _friend,_ he was her _tool._ A weapon in her hand, nothing more. To be upset by the loss of such a potent tool was normal enough, but _tears_? Grandpapa would be disgusted by this display of weakness. And yet somehow, they just wouldn't _stop._ "P-please. I… please don't be gone. Please. You're the only one I can… _please,_ please just let me see you, okay? Please…please, Berserker, please…"

Nothing. Not so much as a whisper.

He was gone. Her Heracles, her invincible guardian… the last anchor she had in this chaotic mess of a Grail War, and he was gone. She shuddered helplessly, tears welling up in her eyes unbidden, and dammit all she _shouldn't_ be feeling like this but she couldn't help it anymore, she just felt so lost, and so alone, and…

A hand touched her shoulder gently, making her jump in surprise; she hadn't heard the door open. Horror running down her spine, she looked up, knowing, just _knowing_ who it would be, but begging whatever God might be listening that it wouldn't be him.

She looked up at Shirou, bolstering herself for his reaction. He had to know, now, and he _had_ to be… had to…

_He looked down on her, furious at her deception, his face twisted in a snarl. He would never trust her again._

_He looked down on her, tears in his eyes, his heart broken. He demanded she leave, that he could not bear to see her._

_He looked down on her, his eyes the cold, empty pits of darkness; the eyes of a magus. He lifted the knife, and his face showed no emotion at all._

He looked down on her. And he smiled.

"So. Ilyasviel von Einzbern, huh?" he asked, his tone shocking in its mildness. "I'm glad you're okay. Or… should I say 'nice to meet you'?"

For a brief moment, Ilya's sadness and fear and pain were blown away by sheer, unadulterated _confusion._ "I… that… what?"

"You probably should have told me earlier, mind you. It would have been really helpful for a lot of reasons, and I think maybe it would have saved me from getting in trouble with Saber a few times," he continued, still smiling warmly. "But I can understand why you would want to keep your family secret. It must have been really scary for you, all alone in a new city, and I guess… well. I know that the Einzberns and the Emiyas have some bad blood."

Ilya blinked. "I… that's… you're not _mad_? At all?"

Shirou's eyebrows shot up in open shock. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because I lied to you! I… kept secrets, and ran around behind your back, and I made Saber do silly things with me and followed you around in bushes and…"

"Saber too?" Shirou muttered in annoyance. "Am I the only one who didn't know?"

"… and I didn't tell you everything, and I… I _lied!_ And I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared you'd push me away if I told you who I really was, and I liked you, I _really liked_ you, you were nicer than anyone I've ever met and you treated me like I was special, and…"

"Ilya," Shirou said, his voice calm but firm. "I _just told you_ that I understand why you were worried. So why are you so… well. Frantic? It's fine."

"But it shouldn't be fine! You should be angry!" Ilya snapped.

"Do you _want_ me to be angry at you?"

"… … … Well. No. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be! People are supposed to have emotions, Shirou!" Ilya said firmly, a blush coloring her cheeks as she realized she had kinda backed herself into a mildly stupid corner. But still, a lady _never_ retreated from an argument. Nobility was entitled to win these things, after all.

"Well," Shirou said, his smile growing a _tiny_ bit teasing. "I couldn't help but notice that you probably could have killed me by now, if you meant me harm. So I confess, that probably defused a lot of any anger I might have had." He tousled her hair affectionately. "Besides, I like you too. That helps."

Ilya blinked, tears welling up in her eyes once more from a combination of relief and something that wasn't entirely unlike tiny, aristocratic fury. "You… you… you… you are _such a peasant!_ "

"… Did I do something wrong?" Shirou asked in genuine confusion.

"Yes! You're too… too _nice!_ "

"I thought you _liked_ that I was nice."

"Yes, but there have to be limits! This is a Holy Grail War! If you're too nice to everyone, then you're going to get hurt, and then what will happen?!" Ilya snarled.

"… But I'm not _being_ nice to everyone. I'm being nice to you," Shirou said in confusion. "Unless I shouldn't be nice to you?"

"… … … _Stop doing that."_

"Stop doing what?"

" _Confusing_ me!" Ilya snapped. "I… you _always_ do this! You never react like you should, and instead you're all creepily nice and ruin my careful planning!"

"… Creepily?"

"You never act like a _person_!" Ilya berated him. "You shouldn't be so nice all the time, you should show a little selfishness once in awhile! Like… like… 'Bwahahahahaha!'" she laughed, apparently in what was meant to be an Evil Shirou impression. "'Ilya, you have deceived me, and must pay for your crimes by becoming my _personal toy! Bwahahahaha!'_ Something like that. That's how people _are_ Shirou, even the nice ones can't be nice _all_ the time! It's weird. _"_

Shirou was torn between the urge to laugh at the ridiculous display, and the urge to blush furiously at the fact a small child had just used a term like 'personal toy' in what seemed uncomfortably close to a very different meaning from 'teddy bear.' "First of all. You seem pretty fond of me. Or at least, you kept coming back to see me when you knew you shouldn't."

"… That's unrelated to my point."

"Second of all," Shirou said flatly, "you've had a rough time of it, Ilya. I know that. I can only imagine how hard this has all been for you, all alone in a strange land. I don't want to take anything from you. I want to support you, and protect you as much as I can. So don't expect me to do anything other than that, understand?"

Ilya looked up at him, her expression carefully blank in what she _hoped_ was a disapproving manner… but in the end, the warmth inside won out, and she smiled at her knight in shining armor. "You're lucky that you're cute, you big dummy," she murmured affectionately, leaning in to hug him as best she could, enjoying the warmth of him, the sound of his heart beating against her ear.

He chuckled and stroked her head. "You know, you should be careful about saying things like that."

"Hm?"

"Things like 'personal toy' and calling me 'cute' and stuff. That isn't really appropriate for a ten year old."

Ilya giggled, nuzzling tighter. "Not ten, dummy," she said, her tone fond and warm. She couldn't help it, he just made her feel happy to be around.

"Oh, sorry. Eleven, I guess? Couldn't be more than twelve," Shirou guessed. "Whatever, I guess it's the principle of the thing, really. Little kids shouldn't be talking about stuff like that."

Ilya was silent for a few long seconds… before she began to giggle helplessly. "O-oh! Oh, you poor... oh, my, Kiritsugu didn't tell you _anything_ , did he?" She patted his cheek fondly, smiling up at him. "You're so cute and dumb."

"… I feel like I missed something."

Ilya giggled again, clutching to Shirou helplessly, her tears ones of mirth this time. "Oh… oh Shirou! Heeheeheeheehee! You really are just like a helpless little baby bird. Oh, nobody has told you anything at all! Heeheeheeheehee!"

Shirou's expression darkened slightly. "And whose fault is _that_ …?"

"Probably Rin's, she seems unpleasant," Ilya said without a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

Shirou sighed. He had a funny feeling that while _some_ of the time he had spent with Ilya had been an act, the majority of it, particularly how damn _off-putting_ she could be, was all genuine. "Ilya," he said as calmly as he possibly could. "I would like you. To tell me. What I do not know about this situation."

Ilya pondered things. "I'm not sure we have time to go through all of it. You seem pretty ignorant. I mean, it's okay, because usually it's cute. I get to protect you and stuff! But…"

"Ilya! What! Is so! Funny!"

Ilya looked up at him, and smiled. "Did Saber ever tell you about the _first_ time we met? Back when she was a Servant…"

"But she's a-"

"In the _last_ War?"

* * *

 

Rin sighed. "Look, I get that he likes to play hero, but we really do have a lot to talk about. How long is he going to be in there playing dolls and throwing imaginary tea parties with little gi-"

" _She's nineteen?!"_ Shirou screamed, running out of the room blushing furiously.

Rin blinked. "Is she?"

Saber blinked. "Is that relevant?"

" _Yes_ it's relevant! She's… this is… I mean… she's _nineteen!_ She's _older_ than me!" Shirou snapped. "Don't you get what that means?!"

"… She's got some kind of dwarfism, apparently?" Rin asked.

"It means all those _innocent things_ she did! Silly little kid stuff!" Shirou roared, his tone slipping further and further into blind panic. "They _weren't innocent, Tohsaka!_ They were… they were… _she_ was… _those were dates!"_

Rin blinked. "So. I know we have to get into information sharing and tactical plans. But I just need to make sure I have this down. The notion that this girl was the Master of Berserker and a member of a clan obsessed with winning a War that you are competing against her in does not bother you. But the fact she's a teenager does?"

"Well… I mean… _yes!_ "

Rin took a few long, long seconds to ponder this, before sighing and saying, "Oh, _wow,_ I may have picked the wrong ally…"

"Shirou…" Saber said, very slowly and softly. She had been oddly silent since she and Emiya had arrived, clearly distraught over something, but now she spoke and her voice had an odd edge to it. "I require clarification on your distress. Am I to understand, from this outburst, that you have been _dating_ someone that you believed to be a small child?"

Silently, Rin turned to follow Saber's gaze and stare directly at him. Judging.

Shirou was not quite certain how to feel, then. On the one hand, he had an odd sense of relief because this reaction was…basically what he had come to expect from Saber. He had been dreading sitting down with her and finding out what had happened to her, and indeed if she even _was_ still 'her' given her actions in the battle against Berserker and the odd changes to her wardrobe and sword, so this was a heartening revelation.

On the other hand, however, he also knew that if he said the wrong thing right now, any respect that she and Tohsaka might have had for him would die a violent death, possibly followed by him as the girls united to murder the apparent pervert they had uncovered. So he had to choose his words very, very, carefully.

"This was not," he began, "my fault."

"Yeah, I didn't tell him!" a girl's voice said chipperly behind him, and he felt his blood turn to ice as Ilya skipped up next to him and clamped onto his arm possessively, both the warmth and familiarity of the gesture having suddenly new meanings in his brain. "I was trying to keep everything secret, so I just let him think I was a little girl when we went on our dates. It was all my fault, really!"

"Oh. Oh, Ilya. That was… that was not the right kind of help," Shirou said in a dull, dead sort of voice.

"It's okay, Shirou. As a noble, it's my duty to protect my vassals. I'm sure you'll be _just_ fine now!" Ilya said helpfully, still charmingly clamped onto his arm like a tiny vise. "I've shown your innocence, see?"

"Oh, you did something, Einzbern," Rin said, her tone not entirely unlike an animal's snarl. "You have certainly done _something._ "

"Shirou," Saber said, very flatly. "We need to have _words_."

"Oh my, yes we do."

Shirou felt his mind shut down in anticipation of the horror that was about to engulf him. It was a pleasant feeling.

As one, Saber and Rin opened their mouths to have _words_ with him.

**_Twenty-four soul-melting minutes later…_ **

Ilya shuddered. "Um… Shirou, I don't think you should associate with these women anymore. They're clearly barbarians."

"Eep," Shirou said. "Eep."

"Well," Rin said, with a deep sigh of relief, as though she had let out something that had been pent up for many days without much needed release. "Now that we've got _that_ out of the way, we can move on to bigger fish that very much need frying. Emiya, Saber. How much do you know about what's going on with Caster and that… thing?"

Saber sighed. "At the moment, only what we have already discussed and confirmed with our own eyes. The creature is a mass of curses, capable of both rapid, near limitless regeneration and extreme offensive power. To make matters worse, it also appears to exhibit some ability to corrupt Servants…"

"Like you?" Rin asked.

The room got very cold, and very silent, as Shirou and Saber both looked very carefully anywhere but at each other.

"Archer filled me in on what happened with Berserker while Emiya was having his little Barbie Dreamhouse Adventure," Rin said flatly. "And even if he hadn't, I would have to be a complete idiot not to notice the obvious. Saber, your dress has turned black. The aura of mana you exude is completely different than it was the last time I saw you. Stronger, but… fierce. Violent. Not like Caster or Lancer, maybe, but not like you were. So… what happened?"

Saber's troubled expression only grew darker, and she still kept her eyes very firmly aimed downward. "Nothing of consequence. I was exposed to a small portion of the creature. It appears to have left a mark. Not entirely unbelievable, truly… it is a creature of pure mana. As a Servant, it is possible that I absorbed some of that energy. Side effects appear to be quite minimal."

" _I seriously doubt it,"_ Archer said flatly, his voice echoing through the dining room. " _I've had opportunity to examine the Shadow as up close as possible. It doesn't emanate mana, it absorbs it. Even the strongest magical weapon had trouble damaging it thanks to the drain effect. If you touched it, it should have drained you dry very quickly. Or drawn you in and turned you into one of those… things. Like Lancer and Caster. Not truly a Servant anymore."_

Saber's eye twitched slightly. "You obviously did not touch it yourself, and therefore cannot be certain how it would react to a Servant with only brief exposure. I must have escaped before any major side-effects could take place."

" _Or,"_ he countered, _"a piece of that thing is inside you now, and we have no idea what effect it might have on you. For all we know, you could be a ticking time bomb."_

"I _said_ I am _fine_!" Saber snarled.

The silence that filled the room as the ringing of her voice faded was, perhaps, deeper and more awkward than that last. And unfortunately, in this case, when Ilya chose to break it, she merely made the situation ten times worse.

In a soft, gentle voice, she repeated Rin's earlier words as if she couldn't completely wrap her mind around them. "What… 'happened with Berserker?'…"

Saber's eyes widened, the shame of her uncontrolled emotion banished in favor of a far more immediate dismay. "I… Lady Ilysaviel, I…"

"Don't bother apologizing, Saber. How you did it might be worrisome, but the fact it had to be done is beyond question," Rin said flatly. "Berserker had been taken by an enemy that is clearly targeting _all_ the Servants and the Masters. You destroying him is probably the only reason any of us are still alive."

Shirou's face set itself in a disapproving frown as he glanced down at Ilya. "Tohsaka, I don't think you should…"

"She's not a little kid, Emiya," Rin snapped. "Stop treating her like one. She doesn't have a Servant anymore, so she is already of very limited value to our war effort. If she can't keep calm through something like this, we have _no_ reason to keep her around. Letting useless people stay involved in a Grail War is nothing but a way to get them killed."

Ilya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, squeezing Shirou's hand once to cut off his angry retort before it could start. Truthfully, she had half-expected this outcome… looking inside, she could _feel_ the essence of a Servant inside her. She had merely hoped…

Ha. Hoped.

She opened her eyes, forcing her features into a predatory smirk directed at Rin. Anger was safer than sadness, at a time like this, and so she aimed her attentions at by far her least favorite person in the room. "I suppose I can trust your judgment on this matter, Rin. You've had so much practice being an underdog, if you think that you would have died, you're probably right. And I'm sure you know _all about_ useless people."

Rin matched her smirk, and inclined her head in approval; a fencer acknowledging a point. "Good to know you're still in there. Brat."

Ilya smiled, sweetly and with a tiny hint of venom. "I've no reason to leave just yet. I still have to protect Shirou, after all. Saber does her best, I'm sure, but since she has nobody _reliable_ to back her up, I guess I have no choice but to stay a little bit longer."

"Well, then, reliable girl," Rin said, her tone indicating she and Ilya were _best friends_ until Ilya turned her back and then out the knife would come, "maybe _you_ should let us know what you've divined about what's going on."

Ilya shrugged. "Unfortunately, I'm… not _totally_ sure. I know the basics. Zouken Makiri has constructed a second Holy Grail, in which the souls of Caster, Lancer, and Assassin have been caught. The soul of Berserker is safely in the true Grail constructed by my family, however, which suggests his model has a flaw; it can only catch the Servants it directly draws in through its extended energy."

Shirou looked down at her, his face suggesting he was still having trouble grasping that kind of talk coming out of her mouth. Big cute dummy. "Oh. Um. Well, that's… good."

"Not really," Ilya said sadly. "Because that flaw isn't as much of a flaw as I'd like, and it seems to have a much larger advantage."

"The blackened Servants," Rin murmured. "I had thought that was something Zouken was planning for from the beginning. If anyone would know how to break the rules of the War, it would be someone from one of the three families, right?"

"Yes and no. The thing is, Servants broken down into energy for the Holy Grail should simply be _gone_. No trace of their existence or humanity should remain at all. And yet, the Makiri Grail can either… preserve or recreate them, while still keeping their power as part of itself. You've noticed, right? The Shadow is getting stronger, even though technically the Servants it devours still exist. It doesn't make much sense," Ilya said.

"Could it be because they're… well. 'Alive' when they go in?" Shirou asked. "I mean, it sounds like the real Grail, Ilya's Grail…"

Ilya winced at that, and he didn't notice.

"… can only take a Servant into itself when they're killed in battle, or fade away after their Master dies. But this one is able to attack and absorb them while they're still alive," Shirou said. "And I guess… I don't know. Zouken must have added something to his Grail that makes it different from the real thing. I mean, he helped make the original system, and all…"

Rin's eyes widened. _"What_?!"

"… Didn't you know? I mean… I heard it from Kotomine. He said that this Zouken is the same one who founded the Matou clan and moved them to Japan in the first place, and he's been using some kind of magic to stay alive all these centuries. He isn't exactly the most trustworthy guy in the world, but I figured he had no reason to lie about something like this. He seems to really, really hate Zouken, so I figured anything he could share to hurt him, he would…"

Rin's eyes went from wide with shock to narrow with a wrath that Shirou would have felt intensely horrified of if it had been aimed at him. "Oh, sure, he's happy to share all _kinds_ of knowledge, just not with _me._ That conniving little _weasel!_ I should have known he was holding out on me. When I see him again I'm gonna shove that fake priest robe down his throat and pull it out his-"

" _Rin. Focus."_

She took a deep breath. "Right. Right. Sorry, Archer. This _does_ change a lot. If it's true, then Zouken isn't just one of the three families, he's one of the people who put the Grail system together in the first place. He knows more about it than all of us put together, no _wonder_ he's been able to keep a step ahead of us all this time." She sighed. "But I'm not sure what good this does us. Nobody can understand the Grail better than him, if this is true. Unless there's another centuries-old Magus who was in Fuyuki at the time wandering around?"

Ilya winced. Technically speaking, there was a small portion of her own memories, and Lord Zelretch in London, but she wasn't sure either one of those would be all that valuable at the moment. She had only sporadic and not at all reliable access to Justicia's memories, and Zelretch…well, one did not ask Zelretch for help with one's problems. It wasn't that he couldn't solve them, it was just that asking him to do so was the worst possible way to actually _convince_ him to do so. In fact, he might make things worse just to be a jerk. Justicia had thought he was amusing, but her creators had most certainly not.

"It's… possible," Ilya said very carefully. "But I'm not sure. Zouken could make a Holy Grail by himself, if he had the right materials. I know that. But the Great Grail is a life of itself, something almost divine. It has its own will, its own sense of _self._ It's the consciousness that summons the Servants forth. Breaking a Servant down into energy and giving them physical form again from within a Holy Grail… that sounds like something the Great Grail would be needed to do."

Rin raised an eyebrow. "If the Great Grail is on Zouken's side, then haven't we already lost? Wouldn't it just give him what he wants in the end anyway?"

Ilya shook her head. "The Great Grail is neutral. It has a will, technically, but it's more like a computer, programmed for specific functions. In this case, it serves the winner of the War, and nobody else. Once a magus claims the Holy Grail, the energy within will activate the Great Grail and allow their wish to come true…or to reach the Root, if used as inten-"

She stopped.

A chill ran down her spine. Unbidden, the thought, _But what if something_ inside _it has another agenda?_

"You've thought of a possibility," Rin said into the sudden silence. This wasn't a question; Ilya looked as though she'd seen a ghost.

Ilya rolled her eyes, trying very poorly to hide her obvious discomfort as she tried to reconcile this painful gut feeling with what she _hoped_ was not happening. "Rin. I can't be sharing Einzbern family secrets with you like that unless I haven't got any other choice. Particularly since we both know you won't be giving me anything in return."

"Other than letting you take shelter in my _house_?"

"Which is really more of a punishment."

"Oh you _little_ …"

" _Rin. Focus."_ Archer said again.

Rin sighed. "Emiya. Use her creepy obsession with you to worm information out of her, please?"

Shirou winced. "Can you phrase that differently, please?"

"Lady Ilyasviel," Saber interjected, softly. "I understand the desire to keep your family's secrets. But… above all else, above even our own wishes and desires. Zouken Matou _must_ _not_ gain control of the Holy Grail. No goal that abomination possesses could possibly lead this world to anything other than disaster."

Ilya looked over at the King of Knights, coolly assessing the woman. She was clearly under outside influence, the darkness was wafting off her like a foul odor. And on a more personal level… she had killed Berserker. Yes, she might have had a good reason, and yes she had probably saved Ilya's own life by doing so. But…

Saber, sensing her hesitation, walked across the room and fell to one knee before her. "Lady Einzbern. I have done you a great wrong, and cost you your protector. If you seek vengeance upon me, I understand. If I request Shirou use a Command Seal to destroy me, will you agree to tell him and Rin the information they seek?"

It was not entirely certain, just from looking, whose jaw dropped hardest at this statement.

" _What?!"_ Ilya squeaked.

"Saber, are you _insane_?! You are a million times more useful to our cause than that crazy little brat!" Rin snarled.

"No! Nobody is dying! Ilya, I understand if you need to keep your family's secrets, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to let Saber just-"

"I believe," Saber said very calmly, "that this is my choice to make. As you yourselves have noted, it is very possible I am… compromised. If a sacrifice is required to earn Ilyasviel's trust, then I should be the one to make it. It is possible that all of you may be safer without me, in any event."

With the same utter serenity, she drew her sword and pressed the edge against her throat. "My lady? If you swear to do everything in your power to help Shirou and Rin, I will do you this service. Will that be acceptable?"

"You… you… you…" Ilya stammered, tears welling up in her eyes for some reason she couldn't even fathom, "… You… _idiot!_ How can you even say that?! How can you even think that?! That's… that's not _repaying_ anything, that's… that's… _crazy stupid talk!"_

Saber blinked. "My lady? I was only acknowledging the possibility you might desire retrib-"

"Of course I'm not happy about Berserker, but that doesn't mean chopping your own head off will _repay_ me you dummy!" Ilya snarled. "If you really want to repay me then… then… I don't know!"

Shirou smiled down at the two girls. "Take Berserker's place."

"… What?" Ilya and Saber asked in perfect unison, only making Shirou's smile grow wider. Honestly. Both small, both beautiful in an almost otherworldly way, both kind of… weird in the head. If he didn't know better, it wouldn't be unheard of to mistake them for sisters.

"Ilya. To make up for taking your Servant from you, Saber and I will take his place," Shirou said warmly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "And you don't have to do anything you truly feel uncomfortable with, but… if you would be willing to help us… _really_ help us… that would be wonderful. Does that sound okay?"

Ilya blinked away tears once again, looking back and forth from the painfully serene face of Saber to the innocently smiling face of Shirou and back again.

_Oh, this is cheating. They are such a pair of big, dumb, noble puppies._

"I… I… I…" she stammered out, before finally letting loose a helpless giggle and wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh, you two are the _worst._ Fine. I don't really care too much about the Glory of Einzbern anyway. And I suspect Grandpapa won't be having me back at home no matter what I do. I might as well tell you everything."

Saber smiled, and it was dazzling. "My thanks, Lady Ilyasviel. Know that I will guard you with my life from this moment on."

Shirou smiled, and it warmed her soul. "Thank you, Ilya. I really did mean it when I said you didn't have to, so this means a lot."

Rin sighed, and it was like nails on a chalkboard to Ilya's otherwise brightening mood. "Can we please share dark secrets of magic before I'm sick to my stomach?"

Ilya cast a glare that could have melted steel at the girl, but starting a fight now would only make her new Servants' lives harder (And yes, Shirou counted as a Servant. Ilya had unique definitions for these things). She sighed, sat down in an empty chair, and composed herself. "Not that it's any of your business, Rin, but I was just about to. Though, once I'm done, you might wish I hadn't. It's a touchy subject to the Einzberns, but… it's more than touchy to anyone who becomes a Master.

"Now. Let's talk about the devil."


	25. The Truth

**_It began with the house of Einzbern._ **

**_They were an ancient house, respected among the hallowed halls of the magi. Their power and wealth were exceptional, even among the ranks of their peers, and their bloodline was pure and potent going back as far back as history could be recorded. They mastered the magics of life, extending their existence beyond the realms of humanity and creating creatures of great power and wonder._ **

**_And so, it was almost to be expected when they broke that final rule, stepping into the realm of the gods. The pinnacle of their power over life and death, the True Sorcery known as Heaven's Feel. It was their greatest achievement, a creation that would leave the Einzbern clan's place in history as the greatest of all magus families._ **

**_And it was lost._ **

**_Such an event could not be accepted. The loss of that divine power could not be tolerated by any magus worthy of the name. And so the Einzberns gathered the remains, and they did the unthinkable: they enlisted the aid of their natural rivals, allowing other magi into the circle of their research. With the aid of the Makiri, and the spiritual land of the Tohsaka, the Einzberns were able to call into being a ritual which would allow the eventual re-creation of Heaven's Feel. The Holy Grail War was born, and all that remained was for the Einzbern clan to win it and reclaim their lost prize._ **

**_Unfortunately, while their knowledge was great, their skills in combat proved to be somewhat limited. Centuries passed, and with them a pair of Holy Grail Wars that brought the ancient clan nothing but defeat and humiliation. No path to the Root was created, no infinite knowledge was gifted onto any mage of the clan. Heaven's Feel remained frustratingly beyond the reach of its own creators, and the passing of the years caused a bitterness and fury to grow in their hearts._ **

**_They no longer cared about any sensible goal. They no longer cared about their own desires. To win the Holy Grail, to prove their own superiority, this unreasonable obsession took root in the heart of the clan and overwhelmed any thoughts of gain. And to this end, for the Third Holy Grail War, the Einzbern clan shattered the rules of the War that they themselves had created._ **

**_Altering the summoning ritual, they attempted to summon as their warrior not a hero, but an invincible demon. The dark god Angra Mainyu, the ultimate evil of Zoroastrianism, would come to their call, and through him they would claim victory. No spirit that had once been a human could hope to defeat an embodiment of ultimate sin, surely._ **

**_Or rather, that was the theory._ **

**_What came to their call was nothing like a god. Though it indeed went by the name Angra Mainyu, and though it was indeed a Heroic Spirit, it was hardly the invincible demon they had sought. A weakling among Heroes, barely more than human, a miserable thing that had become a legend only for its deeds in a single miserable village. A worthless insect who had become a 'hero' not for great deeds, but for taking onto himself the sins of his people and 'saving' them by being sacrificed as the embodiment of their sins. The Servant born from such a thing had no special skill or power, and was killed early in the War, once again denying the Einzbern their prize._ **

**_And from this, the nightmare began._ **

**_Though the being known as Angra Mainyu was not a demon, it was a thing of sin. It existed as the repository of man's darkest wish, the need for an ultimate evil to blame all of their misfortunes upon. A source for their woes, the knowledge that some greater power acted against them and their suffering was not the result of their own self-destructive, petty natures. And so the people had chosen a simple man, shamed and cursed him, called him the source of all evil and cast him down to cleanse themselves._ **

**_In the end, the spirit named Angra Mainyu represented nothing so much as a wish. A wish to assign a face and a name to All the Evils in This World._ **

**_And the Holy Grail could grant_ ** **any _wish._**

**_Angra Mainyu died, and entered the Holy Grail as a Servant. And within the it, the wish for the heart of evil began to fester. Like a parasite, it spread through the whole of the Grail system, corrupting and turning it. Though the Grail might be a source of unfathomable mana, it was also a thing of neutrality, with no morality of its own. It had no defense against the darkness seeping through it, and so it became a thing of darkness itself. No longer a tool to grant the wishes of others, no longer a door to knowledge and wisdom. A mass of endless curses that would consume and destroy any who called upon its power, flooding the world with madness._ **

**_And within it, the true form of that selfish wish, the dark god Angra Mainyu, lay in wait. Born from malice beyond imagination, a writhing being made of curses and thoughtless hate, it slept formlessly within the Grail twisted by its power._ **

**_Waiting to be born._ **

* * *

 

Saber, Rin, and Shirou sat in the dining room of the Tohsaka manor, staring at Ilya in silence.

They kind of just did that for a few minutes, though none of them really noticed the time passing, before Rin said, "Well. Damn."

"Ilyasviel, are you… are you certain?" Saber asked very softly, her tone one of despair so deep the room could have drowned in it.

Ilya arched an eyebrow. "I am an Einzbern, a direct descendant of the Grail's truest creator. Her power and memories flow through me, as they did through my mother before me. The deepest secrets of both its workings and the powers of the Clan Einzbern are at my disposal."

"So… so then you are…"

She reached up a hand to bop Saber on the nose. "Of _course_ I'm certain, dummy."

Saber looked as though she was torn somewhere between laughing and crying as Ilya looked up at her with an expression that could graciously be called petulant annoyance. "You… lady Einzbern. You do not understand. As a Servant, to seek the Holy Grail is my entire purpose in the War. And now I have found out that it is not merely impossible, but to acquire it would end in nothing but disaster for the entire world. I… I…"

" _I'd say you just had a lot of pressure taken off your shoulders, then,"_ Archer's disembodied voice said mildly. _"Victory no longer matters. Your wish was impossible from the very start, so you can stop worrying about if the Grail can grant it and focus on the matter at hand. Be happy, Saber. You're free."_

Saber's entire body tensed. "If we did not have an alliance," she said, her tone barely above a whisper. "I would cut you down here and now."

"Archer, stop provoking her," Rin snapped. "She isn't the only one who's unhappy here. Unless you think I'm overjoyed to find out my family's greatest goal has an world-ending horror inside it trying to get out."

" _My apologies, master,"_ Archer said in a tone that indicated he wasn't actually apologizing. " _I'm not very used to having allies, as you know. I'm not a people-person."_

"I never would have noticed," Rin muttered. More loudly, she said, "Ilya…"

"Only my friends should call me Ilya, Rin," Ilya said. "But since you _are_ a peasant, I guess it can't be helped."

" _Ilyasviel_ ," Rin said, stretching out each syllable as the expression on her face suggested she was starting to agree with her Servant on the nature of allies. "The Holy Grail. How exactly do we go about getting the devil… well. _Out_ of it."

Ilya smirked. "Just kill all the Servants. It will consume the power of the completed Grail and emerge shortly after. Though at this point, the way this War is making it stir, even six might be enough, if someone makes a wish."

"You know what I mean, you little brat," Rin grumbled. "How do we _kill_ it? Or at least… exorcise it?"

Ilya shrugged. "I don't know. Grandpapa never cared, honestly. He seems to think that destroying the world is a worthy price for winning the War." Shirou opened his mouth to protest, only to be cut off by Ilya saying irritably, "I just _told_ you that he's obsessed. I don't understand why he thinks the way he thinks, I just know I've never been allowed to question him until now. I don't want the world to be destroyed. The world has you in it."

Rin coughed. "There's other people in the room, you realize."

"And pretending that I could possibly care about _you_ isn't very attractive, Rin," Ilya said flatly. "I do like Saber, though. She's nice."

Rin sighed. "Well. At least we're all being honest. But if honesty is the policy, I'm forced to admit I don't really have a plan for this scenario. I mean, we're talking about Zouken Matou trying to, what, end the world? When he was just searching for the Root, that was one thing. I could wrap my mind around that. But why would even that loathsome old troll be trying to release some kind of demon god?"

"I doubt he is," Ilya said. "He created his own Grail, after all. He may think he has a way to beat the system."

"So if we destroy his Grail?" Shirou asked. "Will that solve things, or…?"

"Um, erm, that is to say, I don't know _exactly_ if that will… I think we should not be _too_ hasty on that front, and…" Ilya said, trying to skirt around the issue as best she could. It wasn't that she wasn't going to tell Shirou that she suspected the Makiri Grail might be literally one of the Makiri, and further the one he seemed to actually like. She was. She had decided to be honest with him, since discovering that he would basically forgive _anything_ had taken a lot of the fear out of keeping things from him.

But _in front of Rin_ was not the right place to have that discussion.

"Sorry to tell you this, Emiya, but we don't have much of an idea as to what his Grail might look like," Rin said. "And he's certain to make sure it's somewhere it can't easily be attacked, and defended by his magic as strongly as he can manage. I'm not saying it's a bad idea, we just might not be able to achieve it with the resources we have handy."

"Yes! Listen to Rin, she's _smart_ ," Ilya said.

Rin's eyes narrowed in immediate suspicion at the compliment.

"… In a dumb way."

Rin sighed. "Look. There isn't much we can do right now. We're all tired, and we just took a hit to our war potential literally minutes after our alliance came into existence. I think we can safely assume that Zouken and his creatures won't be coming again this evening, they took hits of their own and they seem to have some kind of a time limit. We should all try to get some sleep."

"I call Shirou's room!" Ilya cheered.

" _What_?!" Shirou squeaked.

"That will be acceptable. Berserker's death was my fault, and so protecting Lady Einzbern is my duty. It will be simpler if both of you are in the same room. Preferably if all three of us are in one large bed."

"No! Absolutely not! That is seriously not acceptable! In fact, _none_ of this has been acceptable in any way! I have to insist that none of that happen! Tohsaka, I will need a room by myself," Shirou said, his tone indicating that this was literally needed for his continued survival.

"Well. You can work that out at your _own_ house. You sure aren't sleeping here."

Ilya's eyes narrowed. "I never expected you to be so _gauche,_ Rin. Have you no sense of hospitality at all? No understanding of _noblesse oblige?_ "

Rin snorted. "Oh, so when you want me to give you something, suddenly I'm a noble?"

Ilya blinked. "What? No. I mean that I'm a noble, so you're _obliged_ to give me everything I want. And I want a nice bedroom for the night. And breakfast in bed would be appreciated, I'm _very_ tired."

"That isn't what _noblesse oblige_ means, you—no. No. I'm not getting drawn into this with you," Rin said. "The fact of the matter is, that Shadow can destroy mana with a mere touch. We have to assume the boundary field around the manor isn't a defense, and that means the _last_ thing we need is for it to engulf the mansion from the outside and kill us all in our sleep. We should probably avoid putting all our forces into one, easily attacked spot."

Shirou, his mind momentarily taken off of important matters of keeping the girls out of his bedroom by this question of tactics, blinked. "Well. I can see what you mean, but what happens if there _is_ an attack? We'll be too spread out to work together."

"We'll meet up at sunset, tomorrow night… or, I guess it would be tonight, at this point," Rin said, looking at the clock and seeing the hands mockingly informing her it was nearly 4 AM. "Your place. From there, we'll work out a more extensive battle strategy, once we're all fresh enough to actually be able to think."

Ilya sighed. "Well, it's a bit barbaric of you, Rin, but I _would_ like to see more of Shirou's house. Saber, gather my things, we're leaving."

"You have no things to gather, Ilyasviel."

"… Then can I have a piggyback ride?" Ilya asked. "I'm still pretty tired."

* * *

 

Rin leaned back in her chair after they were gone, rubbing her temples to fight off the headache.

She was woman enough to admit she was exhausted, mentally and physically. She was running on zero sleep from the battles last night, and… well, she wasn't about to admit it to Archer, but he wasn't entirely wrong when he told her that controlling both him and Rider was too much for her. It wasn't so bad when they both stayed immaterial, but as soon as either one entered combat, it was like nails on a chalkboard inside her _brain_. And when Rider had used her Noble Phantasm, she had felt like she was on the verge of death.

And then _this_.

It was strange, really. She hadn't even _wanted_ the damn Grail. Just the chance to prove she was good enough to win it. So in that way, she and the Einzberns were actually fairly similar, and to her great surprise she found herself disgusted by that notion. Their goals were small, and meaningless, and utterly self-destructive. And what did that say about _her_ goals? True, she was not actively seeking the empowerment of a dark god, and now that she knew about the thing, she would do everything in her power as the guardian of Fuyuki to make sure the thing never got to be 'born.'

But she had still been willing to fight, kill, or die for a motivation that was distressingly similar. So what did that say about her? And more importantly, what did her current regret for that path say about her suitability for the position of a magus; a position which often demanded a lack of the conscience that seemed to be flaring up now? She couldn't afford either guilt or regret as the heir of Tohsaka, and yet…

The door to the dining room squeaked open, and Sakura, still in her pajamas, peeked her head in. "Um… nee-san? I heard some people talking, so I wanted to know if you all wanted tea? Or some breakfast, maybe?"

 _…And yet, regrets do seem to be piling up,_ Rin thought, the exhaustion welling up in her even more. "What are you doing up? It's not even dawn yet."

"Well, I slept most of the day yesterday," Sakura said, blushing slightly. "And I did sleep most of the night too. And with you taking Rider, I don't have as much draining me, so…"

"I guess I can't blame you for being overly energetic, yeah," Rin admitted. "Sadly, the 'guests' have already headed out. I had to get them out of here… last thing I need is an Einzbern Master getting wind that a Matou is here, even if she doesn't have her Servant anymore."

Sakura didn't even bother to disguise her surprise. "An _Einzbern_ master was here? And she lost her Servant, but you still let her leave?"

Rin arched an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I'm the sort of heartless killer who would prey upon a defenseless girl?"

"Oh! U-um, no, I just… well, I mean to say it's just that you _are_ a magus, and so… but if you don't really _want_ to, I guess that you don't need to… or… if you… I mean…" Sakura stammered out.

Rin giggled, her falsely cold expression fleeing from her face to be replaced by a tired smile. "I was just teasing you. The fact of the matter is, I seem to have found myself in a very odd alliance thanks to you."

"To me…?"

"The girl is an ally of Emiya. And your demands stand: Shirou Emiya has to survive the Holy Grail War," Rin said with a shrug. "He doesn't want to win the Grail… and I don't think anyone _should,_ anymore. But he's going to live if I have to drag his corpse off the battlefield myself and grow him a new heart right in his chest." _For the second time, technically, but let's not bring that up now._

"Oh. Well… I guess I'm sorry, then?"

"A bargain is a bargain," Rin said. "It's inconvenient, but I'm not about to break my word just because something is harder than I expected." She arched an eyebrow once again. "Unless you thought I was going to turn on you the second it was convenient?"

"N-no! Of course I would never…!"

Rin giggled again, despite herself. "You know, if you can't spot when you're being teased, this is going to be a _very_ long alliance for you."

Sakura pouted, her cheeks visibly flushing. "Well. It's hardly _my_ fault if I'm not used to you having a sense of humor. In general, I'm more my life is mostly quiet and serious."

"Quiet and serious? You live with _Shinji_."

Sakura flinched. "Nii-san is… different at home. You don't really know him that well, nee-san. He's not as flamboyant as he acts in public."

"He's a self-centered, unfathomably prideful little monster, and I'll never understand why you didn't gut him like a carp years ago," Rin muttered with a sigh, sensing that the happy atmosphere had fled with the mentioning of Sakura's family. _Stupid of me. Should have figured they would be a sore subject to her._ "Anyway, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry we woke you up, because nobody is here but me now. You probably shouldn't go to school today, but there's a library in the west wing if you want to find a book to read, and… well, we don't have a TV, but if you want to go shopping or something, that should be all right. I'll have Rider follow you in astral form."

"Um…well, actually, I already finished making breakfast, so…" Sakura said, a small, embarrassed smile on her lips. "It's nothing fancy! You don't have to eat it if you're not hungry, but I thought maybe we could…"

Rin blinked in open shock. "You… you want to have _breakfast_ with me?"

Sakura's embarrassed blush grew, though she was still smiling, the contrast making her look slightly goofy. "Well. I know it's a little weird, but if we're going to be living together for a while, I want to pull my weight. And, I mean, I know it's not something we're supposed to bring up, but we _are_ sisters, so… if you don't want to, it's fine, but…"

Rin blinked a few more very confused times, before sighing in resignation and smiling softly. "Well. Technically it doesn't matter if we talk about it anymore. And you know, it doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"Oh. Oh!" Sakura said, apparently surprised that Rin was going along with her. "Well, it's all ready, I'll bring it in. I don't know my way around the kitchen here, so I stuck to simple dishes, but I think it will all taste good, and…"

"Sakura," Rin interrupted, "don't worry. Anything will be fine. I'm actually starving, so as long as there's plenty of it, everything is good. Though I'm also kind of exhausted, so… if I pass out in my toast, you're cleaning it up."

Sakura giggled, and Rin felt like for once that day, she'd done something right.

* * *

 

Shirou Emiya entered his home and tried very hard not to think about who was following him.

He was not (despite what Fuji-nee would call fairly overwhelming evidence to the contrary) a complete moron. He had mostly worked out that Ilya had something of a precocious crush on him, but he honestly hadn't really put much thought into it beyond trying to make sure he didn't appear to be taking advantage of her to the neighbors. She was a sweet kid and he liked spending time with her, and she would be going home to her own country long before she could get _seriously_ attached and he had to push her back for her own good.

And then _this_ had happened.

He was not precisely a romantic expert, but he knew pretty damn well that when a ten-year-old girl had a crush on you and hung off you, it was something to express eye-rolling amusement toward and just try not to encourage. When an _eighteen_ year old girl did it, it meant she had her eyes on you and she was serious, and depending on how aggressive her personality was it very well might mean you were totally and irrevocably screwed.

"I'll want breakfast before I sleep, Shirou. I haven't eaten since dinner last night, and I'm famished," Ilya said, kicking off her shoes and stepping into the Emiya home as though she owned it. "Saber, could you show me to our room while Shirou cooks? I'd like to make some space in Shirou's closet for my clothes. Oh! That reminds me that I'll need to have Sella drop some of my outfits off, I can't just wear this all the time."

Yeah, he was screwed.

"Look, Ilya. I know that maybe I was sending off the wrong signals or… something. I didn't really understand a lot of what was going on, so I know it's my fault for not being clear. But I was really just being friendly, and…"

"S-so you don't like me…?" Ilya asked, her voice quivering as she looked down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze.

"What?! No, that's…"

"You want me to go? I understand… I lied to you, and I guess it's only natural that you would hate me after all I've done…" she continued, a quiet sob escaping her as she spoke. "Even after Saber said it was the safest thing, you just can't bear to have me around you."

"What?! No, I don't…"

"I'll… I'll just go. I can take care of myself, really. You don't have to feel bad…" she sniffed, slipping her shoes back on. "You couldn't be expected to let someone as awful as me sleep in the same house as you, much less the same room. It's only natural…"

"No! Ilya, you have to stay here, you wouldn't be safe travelling home right now!" he snapped, grabbing her shoulder and dropping to one knee to look her in the eye. "Look, the issue is that you're a girl and you can't sleep in the same room as me, that's all!"

She smirked up at him in triumph, all signs of tears immediately vanishing. "Hee hee, I _knew_ it. You're _shy_. You are _so adorable_ , Shirou."

"… What."

"Well, don't worry," she said, leaning in to peck him on the cheek, "I'm a _lady_. I know that these things have to be taken slowly. You only just worked out we were courting, after all!"

" _Courting?!_ " Shirou squeaked in absolute terror, his face turning as red as his hair.

"Saber, I really would like to see my room," Ilya said cheerfully. "But I think maybe you and I should use the room _next_ to Shirou's." She lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "He's still a bit childish. It's adorable, but it can be troublesome in some ways too."

"Quite so," Saber agreed without hesitation. Shirou had never really hated Saber until that moment. "Come, Ilyasviel. I shall direct you to your room, and will prepare a spare futon for you."

"A futon? One of those weird sleeping-bag things? Why not a real bed?" Ilya asked, following behind the Servant as she led the way. "Oh! That's right, grandpapa told me that Japanese people are uncivilized and sleep on the floor!"

"Will this be an issue? I must warn you that acquiring new bedding is not high on the list of combat priorities."

"No, no, it sounds exciting, actually. A bit like camping!" Ilya said. Then, just before she turned the corner, she looked back over her shoulder and flashed Shirou a brilliant smile, saying, "Oh, and Shirou, I wasn't joking about wanting breakfast!"

The two girls disappeared down the hallway leading toward the bedrooms, and Shirou just kind of watched them go in horrified silence.

"So," he said finally, after a few minutes of that, "I'm in a lot of trouble, then."

* * *

 

Rin's eyes fluttered open as the sun fell on her, and she stretched out in her bed and yawned. "Ugh. I'm more tired than I thought. I don't even remember falling asleep. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just spent another five or six hours in bed…?"

"Good morning, Nee-san!" Sakura said cheerfully as the door to the room swung open and she strode in with a tray of food and a glass of water. "Well, good afternoon would be more accurate, really. I heard you moving around, so I made some sandwiches for a light lunch, if you're hungry."

"Gah!" Rin said eloquently, jumping halfway out of her skin.

"O-oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up after all? I thought I heard you, but I guess I was wrong, and…"

"No, no, I was awake. I'm just not used to someone being here when I am," Rin said, waving off the apology. "You don't have to worry. And you don't have to keep _making_ things. You're not the maid, you know? You're a guest."

"Oh, it's all right. I _like_ helping," Sakura said with a small smile. "I help senpai with his housework all the time, and the cooking is my favorite part. I was thinking of something a little more filling, actually, but then I heard you muttering and I needed to get it together quickly."

"Heard me…" Rin began, her eyes widening as she asked, "Sakura, were you listening to me sleep?"

"Oh. Um. Well. Yes, but not in a creepy way!" Sakura stammered out, blushing furiously. "That is to say, well. You almost collapsed after breakfast, and I was worried, so after I dragged you upstairs and got you into your pajamas…"

" _What?!_ "

"Well, your clothes were all dirty and covered in sweat, I couldn't just _leave_ you in them," Sakura said, reasonably.

"I… well, yes, but…"

"And then there was nothing to do, really, and I wasn't tired enough to sleep, so I decided to fix things up a bit. I cleaned out most of the rooms downstairs, organized the library, go some more tea leaves from the little market down the street… and you _really_ should shop there more often, they have wonderful deals… and when I got back I obviously checked in on you, which is when you were starting to mutter, and I thought you might be hungry, so…"

"I… I get the idea, yes," Rin said, her tone a little disbelieving. "I was just joking when I said you didn't have to be the maid, you know. I didn't think you were actually serious about moving into the position."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush you. I just like to be useful around the house, that's all. Particularly if I'm going to be staying here until the War is over."

"Well… I also wasn't joking about you being able to stay here as long as you want," Rin said. "I know you probably just think I was trying to appeal to you so I could keep Rider, but I actually don't mind."

"… I didn't think that," Sakura said softly. "But I guess I also don't think I should really be pinning my hopes on it, either. Things don't usually go smoothly."

"No, but…"

"Nee-san," Sakura said, softly but firmly, her smile sad. "Trust me. Things rarely go as well as we plan. Enjoy your lunch, I'll talk to you later."

Rin winced as the younger girl stepped out of the room. _What is_ wrong _with me? Lord knows she has enough reasons to assume I'm using her. Like one day of letting her stay in my house and… and make_ tea _is going to change anything?_

 _And besides,_ said a dark little voice underneath her surface thoughts, _isn't using her_ exactly _what you were planning to do? Maybe you didn't mean her any_ harm, _but you don't really care about her either. She's not your sister, she's a tool you can use to increase your power, no different than that book you carry made from_ her _Command Seal._

_That's not true._

_Of course it is. And that's how it should be. You're a magus. The coldness is how your father would want you to be._

_Maybe I don't want to be like him right now._

_Since when?_

_Since I found out he was participating in a ritual to_ end the world, _for personal gain._

_So are you._

Rin looked down at her hand, perched near the tray Sakura had left with her, and the Command Seals blazing on it. And for the first time since she'd gotten them, she had the urge to pick up her dagger and cut the damn things off her skin.

This wasn't going to work out. Continuing the War like a good little drone was clearly no longer in the cards for her. She might have been a Magus, but she was also the guardian of Fuyuki. And right now, she was starting to come to the uncomfortable conclusion that the former was basically useless to everyone, and the latter was something she hadn't been doing very well at all.

Her father wouldn't approve. But was his approval important to her anymore?

Of course it was.

 _Should_ it be?

* * *

 

_The day had been bright, and unseasonably warm for the winter, and somehow felt like a gift. A time for tired warriors to lick their wounds and rest, regaining their energy for the battle to come. Shirou and Ilya were both sound asleep, even as the daylight hours faded into evening and the sun began to fall._

_It was a shame Saber could not do the same._

_Her eyes were closed, but no rest came. A Servant could not dream, but visions could pass before their eyes; normally, those were the memories of their masters, passing through the bond between them._

_But now, Saber found her dreams haunted by something entirely unlike Shirou's dark past. She had been alone, walking through a forest in the dead of night, a chill in the air that ran to her bones and dead trees surrounding her. She walked forward, uncertain of where to go, or why she was even in this place. She knew it not at all, but somehow it was familiar all the same. The paradox did not escape her, but there was little she could do about it, compelled to walk forward._

_In the shadows, a pair of golden eyes gleamed. But no matter how far she walked, stepping deeper and deeper into the shadows, dead branches tearing at her dress and scraping at her flesh, the eyes in the darkness remained stubbornly distant._

_"Who are you?" she called out. "Why have you brought me here?"_

_No answer came, nor any sound at all. The dead world only grew dimmer as she walked deeper and deeper into the woods, unwilling or unable to stop; she herself didn't know for certain. Blood dripped down her cheek as a grasping branch slashed it open, but she felt no pain. Only a deep, deep, chill. She brushed the droplets of blood from her face and continued her march._

_After what seemed like forever (if time had any meaning here) she brushed aside another thorny branch, and the golden eyes faded from her sight. In their place, she found a clearing, a single beam of light shining down through the gloom, illuminating a sword standing in the middle of a lake, held out of the water by a feminine hand. The weapon was one she knew well; the legendary blade she had carried for most of her life, gifted to her by the Lady of the Lake. Was she reliving that moment? But the shores of Avalon had been nothing like this, and the Lady's hand had not been so pale, nor…_

_The woman emerged fully from the water, untouched by it, and smiled at her, the expression of a hunting fox. Her long, black dress flowed into the lake, as if she was wearing the inky depths themselves, and in her eyes glimmered a malice that Saber had thought she was long past._

_"Arturia," Morgan said, her raven locks swirling about her like a living thing, as she held Excalibur. The blade began to darken, black mist running from her hand into the sword, staining its gold and silver a sickening, empty black. "I have missed you, sister mine. I am so glad you have finally come to join me, and take up the blade that sings with my soul. Such a short, pained life, fighting war upon war for a light that would never be yours._

_"Come into the shadows, sister mine, and let them make you_ strong. _"_

_Saber opened her mouth to protest, as the thorny branches wrapped around her, and the waters of the black lake began to rise up her legs, but she could not speak._

_The last thing she saw before the cold, black water covered her face the light from the skies fading away, and the reflection of her eyes, glowing a sickly yellow, reflected in the perfect darkness of Excalibur…_

* * *

 

Saber shot awake, a cold sweat upon her brow and her heart pounding in her chest. She held a hand out desperately, her sword appearing in her hands, and what she saw filled her with dread like little else she'd ever felt.

The blackness that had replaced the sword's normal azure inlay was spreading. The golden blade was slowly darkening, as if it was liquid and black ink was being poured into it.

She growled her refusal, and poured forth what mana she could into the sword. The sheathe of the Wind King roared around her, sending the contents of her bedroom flying against the walls, but she barely noticed; all her power and will bent upon the sword, upon the blackness that flowed through it. Slowly, painfully, the black stain began to recede, drawn back into the runes that lined the blade.

She fell to her knees, gasping for air, and looked upon the weapon that clattered to the floor in front of her. It was with some relief that she saw her eyes were their normal vibrant green, reflected in the silvery mirror of the sword, but the blackening of her dress, and the shadowy taint upon the sword's ornamentation, remained stubbornly present.

What had _happened_ to her? What _was_ this? Was there nothing she could do to expunge this twisted fingerprint of the Shadow? She could not even sleep, now, for fear of that darkness spreading further, turning her against her true self and leaving her as… as…

She did not know. And indeed, that was the problem.

She rose shakily to her feet, intending to head to the dojo and train, hoping physical exertion might drive the worry away…

And halted, blinking in confusion, as the bedroll blasted against the corner of the room began to wriggle.

"...Ouch…" Ilya said, poking her head out of the tangled sheets, an expression of childish fury on her tiny face. "Saber, I know I slept a long time, but did you have to be so mean waking me up?! You're even worse than Sella."

Oh. She had rather forgotten about her new roommate, in all the commotion. This was… awkward.

"I… that is to say… laziness, is… the enemy," Saber said, as firmly as she could manage. It wouldn't do to worry Ilya with something she herself barely understood, after all. "Come. I will awaken Shirou, and we should begin planning for the night. Please head to the kitchen."

It was lucky, Saber thought a bit bitterly, that if there was one thing her life had prepared her to do, it was keep up a facade.

* * *

 

Kirei Kotomine was not happy.

This was not as rare as it looked, actually. He smiled quite often, but he was almost never truly happy. The unfortunate result of having diametrically opposing personal morality and upbringing, and nothing he could do much about. But lately, he was less happy than usual.

"Something," he said to the empty church as he lit the candles on the altar, "is being born."

There was no reply, but he felt like thinking out loud, so he continued. "I do not know what it is. I do not think fully understanding is possible. But the nature of it is dark. Unusual. It is something that stands outside our view of the world, and it will not be accepted."

Silence.

"I find that bothersome, do you know?" Kirei said. "That notion. That a creature can be judged before it has even come to exist. That all things are set in their nature and nothing can draw them away from it. I have always wondered if that was the case, because a truly loving God would clearly not make a creature beyond redemption, and yet the evidence supporting it… ah, but I'm rambling again. The truth remains that this wondrous and unknown presence is being born under the auspices of Zouken Makiri. And so, like the rest of the world, I fear I cannot accept it as it is, either. I suppose that counts as irony."

" _Yes,"_ a voice said, and the air in the cathedral shook with the words, dust falling from the ceiling. " _You_ are _rambling."_

Kirei chuckled, a bit of genuine amusement leaking into his somber mood. "You have been rather tense, lately. Usually you enjoy a bit of philosophical debate, but the last few days..."

" _The debate has lost interest to me, Kirei,"_ Gilgamesh intoned, fading into view beside the empty pews, staring thoughtfully into the stained glass window. "I already know the answer to the question, after all. I think I just allowed myself to forget it, wrapped as I was in the joys and pains of walking among the mortals."

Kirei felt a slight chill in the air, and that was an accomplishment. As a man who genuinely cared nothing about his own life, fear was not a sensation he often felt, and yet, something about the Servant's tone… "Do tell," he said, his voice lazy and amused, betraying nothing of the shiver down his spine.

"The gods are impotent, amoral dolts who have no say in the affairs of this world," Gilgamesh said, his tone soft, and yet the church continued to oddly vibrate with the words, as if his power was leaking forth and making the ground itself quake. "The nature and judgment of all things are mine, and no one else's. This world is my garden, and I am the king. Nothing has the right to be born if I deny it. Nothing has the right to any nature I do not allow it. All living things capitulate to my throne, and that is the final truth."

Kirei chuckled. "My, my. It's not as though this is a new viewpoint for you, but you are not usually quite so direct about it."

Gilgamesh turned to face him, and Kirei felt a slight twinge of fear for the second time. Gilgamesh was smiling. Widely. Ear to ear, an expression of almost childish happiness. But something in his _eyes…_

Kirei Kotomine was, by most standards, a monster. A mass murderer, aficionado of torture and pain, one who derived nothing but joy from the suffering of those around him. Agony was his sole source of satisfaction, and inflicting it on the world was his calling. And yet, he felt like in Gilgamesh's expression, there was something that even he couldn't _quite_ define. "Ah. May I ask why you are so… well…"

"It seems I smile when I'm truly angry," Gilgamesh said, his smile still in place. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. You've been a valuable partner to me, and as a possession, I can't fault anything you've done. But you're right to be a little scared, I think. After so many years of satisfaction, of reveling in the treasures of my world, I have found something that absolutely _infuriates_ me. I smile because my soul sings with the madness of it, do you see? The loss of my own will in favor of the emotion that surges through me, like I was some mindless savage no better than the rabble beneath my feet. It's very invigorating, actually. So do not worry about the machinations of your Makiri, or the tiny things that fight for the Holy Grail. Because I am feeling _violent,_ I think.

"And I am very much in the mood to explore this further."


	26. Quiet on the Home Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the few chapters that I revised somewhat from the original, mainly for a scene that wasn't as funny as I thought it was when I was first writing, and really did not age well at all. 
> 
> I didn't change it too much; I don't LIKE revising the content of a finished story, it feels like trying to pretend I never screwed up in the first place, and I clearly did. To me, this entire story is a screw-up in some ways. But I toned down what I regretted most about it in hindsight.

Shirou's eyes fluttered open to the reddish light of a setting sun, his belly growling and muscles aching to remind him that sleep was not the cure to all that ailed him this day.

"Ugh…" he muttered, rubbing his temples against a mixture of fuzziness and pain. _That's right. Didn't get to sleep until five in the morning, and after that night... ugh. And everyone will be expecting me to make… dinner? Breakfast? God, what time is it?_ He stepped out of his futon, wincing at the soreness. _My everything hurts. And I smell like someone bathed me in blood and sweat. Bath?_

He stopped to consider the likelihood of Saber killing him if he didn't make dinner immediately, but he decided she probably would raid the fridge before she actually attacked him physically. She was reasonable like that.

Half-consciously shambling down the hall to the bathroom, he began filling the tub and pulled his clothes off, closing his eyes and letting the sound of the water falling soothe his headache. Steam filled the small room, washing over him, sweat loosening the grime a little and making him imagine happily what the water itself would feel like. It had been so long since he'd just _relaxed_ , even for a few minutes, and…

"Shirou? Are you in here?" said the voice of absolute horror. "I heard you moving around and I've been waiting to talk to you ever since Saber woke me up being crazy… you should talk to her, by the…"

Shirou froze at the sound of the door opening, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He didn't open his eyes. If he kept his eyes closed, then it wasn't real. That was how the universe worked, right? Something involving physics. If you didn't observe it, then…

" _Hell_ -o!" Ilya said, some combination of surprise and sheer wicked glee entering her tone. "I seem to have forgotten what I was about to say."

"Ilya. Hi," Shirou said, his tone mechanical and dead as he tried _so hard_ to pretend he was dreaming. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was blushing well… everywhere, but admitting that would require opening his eyes and acknowledging that the world existed. And it didn't. It _couldn't_. "So. You don't… knock, then."

"I do _not_ ," Ilya said in the most malicious happiness imaginable. Suddenly he had no problem believing she was nineteen, and even _less_ problem believing she was from a magus family. She was _eerily_ good at channeling Rin right that second. "I'm the princess, after all. No room in my palace would ever be locked to me."

"Well. This room. Is locked."

"No. No it was _not_ ," Ilya said. "I opened it right up. You may have noticed. I certainly noticed. Oh my word I noticed."

"It _should have been locked_."

"I agree. How _barbaric_ of you, Shirou, to simply… _wander about_ like this. In such a manner. All… glistening and chiseled and… and… I forget what I was planning to say again, but it was probably about punishing you. Obviously, since you're my Servant, you have to uphold my dignity."

"Look, you _need_ to get out of this room _right now_."

"I disagree! I feel like you have really hurt me with your actions. And obviously repayment shall be required. I don't allow anyone to not repay me for things. Not even my boyfriend!"

"I'm not… that, though."

"We've been dating for like two weeks."

"Yes, but I didn't know what!" he squeaked, still not quite sure what to _do_ about that situation, but not in the best frame of mind to deal with it right that second. "Listen, Ilya, I know that your situation is unusual, but I have to be firm about this."

"I'll say."

Shirou wondered, vaguely, if he should have grabbed a towel or something. Haha, no, that was silly, none of this was happening so he didn't need to do anything or say anything and he would wake up from his dream _any second now_.

Ilya closed the door. She did not leave the room first.

" _What are you doing_?!" Shirou screamed, finally breaking down and grabbing a towel, his incredible powers of denial finally overcome by his intense fear of women being in the same room as him.

Ilya smirked at him, her cheeks a brilliant red, which somehow didn't help. The thought she might be embarrassed by the, erm, _view_ in some small way didn't do a lot of good when he could also clearly see that her eyes were glimmering with the most intense evil he had ever seen on a human face. "Why, I'm taking a bath! There's this tub here, and you _clearly_ aren't using it, so…"

" _I! Am using! That tub! And you! Need to leave!_ "

"You're not _in_ it."

" _I was! About to be!"_

"I'll say."

" _Not! Like! Th-_ " Shirou began to shriek (like a girl, he could admit it), when the door opened again, because he was clearly in Hell. 

"Shirou, is something wrong? Are you under attack, or…” Saber began, stepping into the room with far more grace and severity than the situation deserved. 

She stopped, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

She sighed. 

“Ah. I see.”    

"N-no! No, you don't see at all!" he said, not honestly expecting it to do any good. He was doomed and he knew it.

"I saw!" Ilya said gleefully, because apparently she had secretly been out to kill him since the very beginning and was only showing it now. "Saber, he was _lewd_. Trying to seduce a helpless maiden! I was so stunned I didn't know _how_ to react."

"Ilyasviel. You are leaving now," Saber said, clamping a hand like a vise onto the smaller girl. "Shirou… I understand you are young, but this really isn’t the time or place."

"Nothing…nothing happened! I swear, nothing…" Shirou protested pitifully.

" _Yet_ ," Ilya squealed cheerfully, trying to peek her head around Saber's skirt as she was dragged out of the room. She oddly didn't seem too upset about being manhandled, or maybe she just wasn't paying attention to anything but her field of vision and didn't notice. "But you know he was planning it, the _naughty_ boy. And me the innocent noble princess, _seduced_ by that _knave_! I was soooooo scared… and yet, my heart was beating so _fast_ with his words of _passion._ "

"This is not the first time I have been forced to play den mother to hormonal children, young lady, and it will not be the last.  You resemble Lancelot more closely than his actual child,” Saber said, finally resorting to picking up the smaller girl and throwing her over her shoulder like a sack of vegetables. “It should be nostalgic, but it is in fact obnoxious. Come.”  

"She… she…!" Shirou squeaked helplessly as Saber slammed the door behind her, Ilya's sadistic laughter ringing through the halls. "She _didn't even knock!_ "

Those ridiculously pitiful words echoed in his ears like the judgment of Hell, calling down the tattered remains of the respect the girls had for him to its resting place in the underworld. Next to him, the tub, which had been filling up steadily ever since Ilya had burst in, began to overflow and leak onto the floor.

He sighed. _You know, maybe Fuji-nee was right._ _I really need to reconsider my life choices at some point._

* * *

Shirou Emiya was not the only person having self-loathing issue, but his were at least pretty pathetic, rather than a legitimate issue that upset her entire world view.

Sakura was sleeping, again. She slept a lot, which Rin was starting to wonder about; her mana supplies seemed to be naturally on the low side, judging by how much difficulty she'd had supplying Rider. She had managed the summoning ritual flawlessly, and created a working Tome of the False Attendant, so her skills were clearly the real deal, but her stamina wasn't the best. Probably the result of too much exposure to the Matou's charmingly parasitic brand of pseudo-magic.

But now Rider was away from her, receiving mana from another source, and Sakura still seemed oddly tired. It had only been a day or two, admittedly, so Rin didn't know for sure. Maybe this was normal for her. But the girl had spent most of her first day here asleep, then slept through the night, and now it was barely even six PM and she was already curled up in bed again. _Should I have her checked out? Her hair, her eyes… that old worm clearly did something to her body. Could it have had some consequences other than making her compatible with his family's magic?_

Wouldn't _that_ be a wonder? To reclaim her family, escape the curse of the Tohsaka bloodline and bring about the end of the vile monster who had ripped them apart, only to find out that her sister was magically crippled because of him. Yes, she would definitely need to check on that, but medical magic was not really her forte. Of course, she knew someone who specialized, but asking for _his_ help was almost worse than the notion of ignoring the problem and risking something being permanently wrong with her newly reclaimed sister.

She looked over Sakura, curled up in the guest bedroom. She looked peaceful enough, whispering something inaudible in her slimber, but her forehead was clammy and her skin seemed a shade too pale to be healthy.

Rin sighed. Yes, it was, sadly, only _almost_ worse.

Walking down the hall to the phone, she dialed the number for the Kotomine Church. She was going to regret this, but it made her conscience a little lighter to remind herself that she probably wouldn't regret it as much as doing _nothing._

* * *

Sakura's eyes fluttered open, and she blinked a few times to clear the sleep from them, as she stretched, feeling whole and healthy, utterly without any pain or… she sighed, realizing what that meant even before she really _looked_ at her room to see it had dissolved into white mist, an empty void.

"Medea? Are you there?" she asked, slightly frustrated. "You can't just randomly keep doing this, it's getting kind of-"

She stopped. She remembered, very suddenly, what exactly had happened last time she had been here.

She blushed. She blushed _so hard_.

It wasn't her fault. She was hardly _inexperienced_ in such matters, but normally it was a case, of… well… she had learned how to close her eyes and go outside her body until the whole event was over with. She hadn't ever, well… _stuck around_ for it. Mostly because nobody had ever really made an effort to make her _want_ to. "So… um. You. Want to talk! To me. For… something. Then. That's nice! I. You're… you. Talk. That."

A musical and slightly nervous giggle reverberated through the air. _"Ah. Yes. I… admit to finding things a bit awkward. The procedure was entirely needed, but I confess, it was not how I had intended things to go originally. I have certainly never borne you ill-will, but I never intended to become personally involved in such a… blatant way. It may be best to consider it a simple medical procedure."_

Sakura's blush only deepened. "It wasn't… exactly what I would call _medical._ And could you please come talk to me face-to-face? Hearing your voice echoing around isn't helping me calm down at all. It's just off-putting."

The voice of Medea fell silent for a few long seconds, before saying, " _I am… not certain that is a good plan. It is not that I dislike you, Sakura, but I truly don't believe that furthering a bond between us can end well, and…"_

Sakura folded her arms. "You _promised._ "

With a sigh, the lovely, blue-haired woman appeared from the nothingness. "You are a very stubborn young lady, when one gets to know you."

"I have had to learn how to be," Sakura said primly. "And I'm not going to have you being all… distant and confusing again. You can call it whatever you want, but at the very least I think we're friends." She blushed slightly again. "With… benefits, technically, but it still seems a good word. So you should be open with me."

Medea choked slightly (she'd been rather more open than she liked already!), but nodded her reluctant agreement. Pushing the girl away at this point would, seemingly, just ruin the goodwill she'd already built up with her previous...

_Let us call them 'discussions'._

… discussions. It was best to focus on the fact the experience had been pleasant for everyone and made Sakura more willing to speak to her, and ignore the rest. _All_ of the rest. "Very well. Now, if this is enough to satisfy your bizarre whims, I had something to show you."

"Medea," Sakura said softly, "I do appreciate that you think you're helping. But you have to know that you're not likely to change my mind on this. You keep telling me that I'm so powerful, that I can do anything, but… I don't think you're right. I know the power you mean. I've felt it, sometimes, when I'm… having less pleasant dreams. Felt it eating away at me. I've always tried to pretend that it wasn't real, that it was my imagination playing tricks on me, but… well, with you, that seems like it isn't going to really help." She sighed. "I know what you mean. I admit that it's there. I don't think I can lie to you, so… it's making it harder to lie to myself, while I'm here. I know you're right, but… the thing that you're talking about, it's _in_ me, but I don't think that it _is_ me, if that makes sense? And I don't think I should touch it."

"But is that because you think you can't control it? That it would change you?" Medea said, an eyebrow arched in challenge. "Or because you think you don't _deserve_ to have it? Power is a tool, Sakura, nothing more. A tool that could bring you everything you've ever wanted. But you won't _admit_ that you _want_ anything, and I must tell you, dear: it's not as charming as you imagine."

Sakura pouted. "I'm not doing it to be charming. I don't _want_ anything. I'm… content."

"No, you're miserable, but your life has led you to believe that misery is your default state and trying to fight it is pointless. You could rip your grandfather's soul out through his ears and free yourself from him forever, if you just let me help you."

"But I don't _want_ to hurt grandfather! I know he's a bad person, but…"

Caster sighed. "But, gods above, you are the most hideously _nice_ person I have ever known. It would be endearing if it wasn't so sad."

Sakura sniffed and turned away from her. "Well. I'm sorry you feel that way, but it's how I feel. I don't really want this power you seem to think I should. I just never have."

"Of course, there's other things that I'm fairly sure you haven't considered," Medea said primly.

"I don't think that you really need t-" Sakura began, being cut off by a voice that made her breath catch and her heart skip a beat.

"Sakura! Sakura, there you are!" Shirou said from behind her, running up to her from behind. And despite _knowing_ it couldn't really be him, his tone was so earnest and so... well, so _Shirou_ that she spun to face him, a small smile on her face against her best judgment as she turned to talk...

And she froze as he swept her up in her arms and kissed her.

She fell limp, her blood pounding in her ears as Shirou's strong arms wrapped around her, holding her like she weighed nothing. The kiss was not terribly deep, not terribly passionate, but her mind was still blank from the mere sensation; a warm, soft embrace that was everything she had ever dreamed of from him. He pulled back, tilting her head up to smile down at her, and her heart melted.

"Ummmm. Hi," she said.

"Hi yourself," Shirou said, smiling guilelessly. "Ayako said she needs you to run the archery club meeting tonight, she's got an exam to study for. And, well... I know that kissing you wasn't _required,_ but..."

"S-senpai, that's a little too forward for when we're in sch-" she began, unable to disguise either her intense blush or the slightly doofy smile that covered her face, before she stopped, noticing something that caught her off-guard once again.

She _was_ in school. The white void in which she met Medea had, presumably while she was, erm, distracted, shifted into the hall outside of her homeroom in Fuyuki High. Students walked by, a few of them looking quite annoyed by the public display of affection, but more of them smirking conspiratorially or giggling in some mix of embarrassment and amusement. _What the...?_

 _Dreams are wonderful things, Sakura_ , Medea's voice said softly into her mind. _And, of course, the dreams of a magus can easily be seen as shades of thing to come. Look around. Enjoy the moment. I suspect you'll find much you approve of._

Sakura sighed in annoyance, the familiar halls of her school suddenly seeming more off-putting than comforting as she realized what was happening. All of this was a lie, then, just like the last two, but she wasn't just a spectator; Medea seemed to expect her to participate in this one. It was kind of creepy, honestly, rather than the temptation that Medea seemed to expect that it was. She was half-tempted to just sit down in a corner and refuse to move until...

"Tohsaka-san!" a small freshman said, running up to her and bowing deeply. "Um, thank you for helping me with my homework for English last week. I got a 92!"

"Oh, um, Hinami-chan. I'm glad you... wait, what did you call me?"

"Ummmm... your name, Tohsaka-san," the younger girl said, adjusting her glasses as she fidgeted in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

Sakura saw her reflection in the girl's glasses, and her jaw dropped.

Sakura was not a proud girl. She knew, on an intellectual level, that she was considered beautiful by others, but she herself had never really been able to see it. There were many reasons for this, most of them relating to her self-esteem being buried so deeply it hadn't seen the sun in ten years, but the single _biggest_ reason was that in looking at herself, she had some very big, constant reminders that she wasn't the person she had been _meant_ to be. The violet hair and eyes that others thought marked her as exotically lovely were a brand, a mark of ownership carved into her body and soul by Zouken Matou. They marked her as not a Tohsaka, not even a _person._ A piece of property, a tool of the master of Matou.

Other people looked at Sakura and saw beauty and grace. She looked at herself and saw a maimed, broken thing.

And so, when her shaking hands pulled a lock of her hair forward into her gaze, and saw it the deep, lustrous ebony it had been in her childhood, the sight made, quite unbidden, a tear of joy come to her eye.

"I… I… that…" she whispered. "What is this…?"

 _You have come to the conclusion that power can offer you nothing you desire. But the joy of limitless power is that it has no limits, my dear. The indignities visited upon you, the maiming of your body and soul; could a goddess not undo these? Your thinking is limited, Sakura, but you_ have _no limits. The world is what you desire is within your grasp whenever you desire it. All you need to do is…_

**_No._ **

**_No!_** Medea snarled, her voice growing darkly furious as the dream world dissolved, cracks of black lightning running through it, as **_Sakura, listen to me, something is interfering, and you cannot allow it to pull you from the dream! This is –_**

The voice faded into nothingness, and with it came the sudden, _searing_ return of the pain that had become her universe for so, so long, as something writhed inside her chest, and what felt like a burning blade _tore_ into her. The presence inside _screamed_ both the voice of Medea and something sick and inhuman _behind_ it, the panicked chittering of a dying insect _…_

Her eyes snapped open, the pain flooding through her intensifying. "Good evening, Ms. Matou," said a deep masculine voice that she had never heard before, and yet which burned through her consciousness so deeply that even the agony that surged through her couldn't block it out. "I am aware that you are likely feeling some discomfort, but that should pass, in time. Your... _ally_ was correct to call me. The body modification done to you was both extensive and detrimental. I was able to remove the majority of the foreign mass, which should help somewhat."

"It… hurts…" she whimpered, a few blessed weeks without the pain that had come to define her life making it all the more difficult to ignore when it returned, redoubled. "I… please, it…"

"Hurts, yes," Kotomine Kirei said, looking down on her as she clenched her eyes shut against the agony of the magical surgery. Idly, his hand flexed and crushed the worm construct he had extracted from the girl's body, enjoying the feeling of the chitin shattering as it died almost as much as he enjoyed the girl's obvious agony.

Oh, he had done exactly as Rin had asked, and done everything in his power to heal the girl. She could not be saved, of course, the core of Zouken's power was literally buried in her heart. Removing it would kill her. But the procedure _would_ slow down her decay, not merely disguise it like the influx of mana she had been absorbing.

It also inflicted a _great deal_ of pain on the patient, and had been delivered by surprise and without any anesthetic other than the girl's obviously forced magical slumber. He had promised to Rin that he would heal the girl, he had never promised she would _enjoy_ this. A small sadism, perhaps, but sometimes the small things were the most important.

"It hurts…" Sakura murmured deliriously. Her eyes glazed an unfocused, fluttering open and shut at seemingly random intervals as she started at the ceiling, unseeing. "It hurts…Medea, please…it…"

Kirei tilted his head to one side, the remnants of Zouken's familiar still dripping from his fist, and his small smile widened. "My child, you _were_ having an interesting dream. I wonder how much of your condition Rin _truly_ knows about? And more to the point, I wonder how much there is left to learn…?"

He held his hand over her sweating brow, his palm glowing slightly, as the girl's frenzied breathing slowed from the minor spell touching her mind. "That should help with the pain, somewhat. It goes against my nature, but I am admittedly curious, and you should feel free to speak to your heart's content. I feel that we have certain connections in common, and you certainly can trust me.

"I am a priest, after all."

* * *

 

Rin sat in the hallway, trying not to fidget too much but more nervous than she liked to admit.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Kirei. Oh, she _hated_ him, he was a complete ass. But she trusted him to do his work well and efficiently. He was the best healing mage she had ever met, and despite the almost endless taunting, he had never broken his word to her once she'd gotten him to give it. She could realistically assume that when he said he would do all he could to heal Sakura, he would do it.

But the problem was that she had grossly, _horribly_ underestimated the problem, and that vexed her. She had anticipated… a curse, perhaps, or some sort of poison that remained in her blood to sap her vitality. A lingering effect of magic that Zouken had left in her as a result of his inept training and sick interests.

Kirei had smiled a bit too much when he had told her of the Crest Worm, the living Matou construct that infiltrated the majority of Sakura's major organs, and its core nestled in her heart. A living, breathing, venomous _thing_ digging into her flesh, sucking the life out of her with each beat of its vile heart. A twisted, profane _violation_ of all she was and all she could be, drawing her life away to fuel Zouken's ambitions. And to make matters worse, she had no way of knowing what powers the Crest Worm might have, what spells it might allow the old monster to work on or even _through_ Sakura. Could she have an assassin in her home? Would Sakura even _know_ if her mind was compromised? The girl was… was _painfully_ nice, a ridiculously docile young woman who seemed to have no greater ambition than to do whatever she could to make life easier for others.

Zouken had to die. She had been intellectually away of this, aware that she would likely need to destroy him at some point in order to end the madness he had started in her city; if he was truly as long-lived as Shirou had informed her ( _And why didn't Kirei think she'd be interested in knowing that little tidbit, huh?!_ ), then he might well be able to just wait out the time until the next Holy Grail War and try this all over again. But she hadn't truly _wanted_ to kill him until now.

She supposed that made her soft, but at the moment she latched onto it like a talisman, a mantra affirming her sanity. The fact she could still be enraged at this kind of treatment was one more sign that she was simply not _made_ to be a magus.

And considering what the magi had done to her sister, she was starting to find that more and more comforting.

Kirei walked from her sister's room, his hands coated in blood and something thick and black. He had a small smile on his face as he saw the expression of disgust come to hers. "Oh, dear. Such a weak stomach in a combat magus. Not that I question your talent, my child, but you simply must learn better how to handle a bit of gore if you wish to survive this battle you find yourself in."

She winced, the intense irritation that Kirei always brought out in her rising to the surface even above her awkwardness. "I hate you. Is she all right?"

"She is not 'all right'. She is dying," Kirei said with a very improper lack of sympathy in his voice, and a perhaps even more improper mild amusement. "I cannot remove the worm in its entirety. The main body is contained within her heart, and it will continue to draw on her mana until she dies." He raised a hand to stave off her protests. "Oh, no, I am not saying there is no hope. Your claiming of her Servant… and do not look so confused, child, I _am_ the officiant of this War, of course I would not fail to notice…has slowed the process considerably. In fact, given her natural talents, I would say that under normal circumstances the Crest Worm could not even absorb her mana quickly enough to threaten her life. Which means…?"

She winced in annoyance at the tone. Of all the times for him to decide to step back into his 'teacher chastising an idiotic student' role, he chose _now_? She wasn't in the mood even remotely. "It means that there's something else. Some other factor draining her."

He smirked. "She _can_ be taught."

"Shut up. How could I stop this?" Rin asked. "Zouken Matou. Would killing him kill the worm too?"

Kirei closed his eyes, as if in thought. "I'm certain I wouldn't know, my child. As nobody has ever _killed_ Zouken Matou, obviously, it is uncertain how his death would affect his creations. Certainly, a normal Magic Crest would not die if extracted from a body. It can be transferred from one host to another, as you well know. Admittedly, the Crest Worms are not _typical_ Magic Crests; they are alive, and mass-producible, hardly the same work of art as a true magus family's crest. I imagine that Zouken's death would not _benefit_ it, at least. And it isn't impossible that destroying him would stop whatever additional source is draining her as well, even if the worm is able to survive."

It was technically true. It wasn't _impossible_. After all, without Zouken to whip it into a frenzy and direct it at a target, the Shadow might become docile enough to end the Holy Grail War on a more normal note before Sakura died. It wasn't _likely,_ of course, given the presence of Caster and Lancer inside what he was very, very certain was a self-sustaining Holy Grail actively seeking new sources of life energy. But it wasn't _impossible._

Kirei was perhaps enjoying himself too much. But then, he had just performed intensely painful surgery on a young woman and then enchanted her into sharing several delirious ramblings that had told him several very useful things. His mood was so good he could hardly _stop_ enjoying himself now.

"That settles that, then. I need to kill the old monster. I was already planning on it before the War ended, now it's just the priority over stopping his Black Grail and the lunatics inside it," Rin said, her voice colder and harder than Kirei thought he had ever heard it. He was almost proud of the bloodlust in her tone, though it was a little disappointing. She would almost certainly die facing the ancient Makiri, most certainly if she continued torturing herself by trying to split her mana reserves between two Servants. The damage to her body was certain to be both extreme and permanent if she didn't discover better her own limits, and that would be no fun. She hadn't even found out all his secrets yet. He wanted to see the look on her face when the very _best_ ones came to light.

She shook her head as if to clear it, and looked up at her mentor/annoyance, looking very tired. "I have to go. People are still trying to kill me, and I have to start dealing with it. Show yourself out, please."

He arched a bemused eyebrow. "You do not wish me to stay here and keep watch over the patient? She is still recovering, you realize."

"You said there's nothing more you can do, and I believe you. Besides, she's going to be asleep and I don't trust you alone in my house."

"You wound me, Rin."

"I wish, but you're still technically on my side for the moment," she muttered. "I'll walk you out. You know the way, but I want to be sure you're gone."

Kirei smiled, and watched with glee as Rin resisted the urge to start throwing things at him. He would have to visit more often, he truly did enjoy her undiluted animosity every once in a while.

* * *

 

Shirou sighed as he walked back into his bedroom and fell onto his futon, somehow _more_ exhausted than he had been when he took his 'very relaxing bath.' "Honestly," he muttered into his pillow, "when I signed up for this War, I was not expecting my allies to be more dangerous to my health than my enemies."

"That's a little mean," said a voice from the door behind him. "I haven't hurt you at all, physically. Lots of other people have, like Lancer, and Caster, and I think Lancer again, and then maybe some more Caster, and… you just have bad luck with those two, huh? Though I heard you did really well last time. I wish I had been awake to see it, Saber says it's amazing when you create swords from thin air!"

Shirou stopped. His blood froze, and his face grew pale and filled with horror. He turned.

"Hi!" Ilya said, smiling cheerfully.

"Ilya. Um. What are you… doing?"

"Visiting you," she said, her smile bold, bright, and childish. Then, without warning, it quirked slightly into a malevolent smirk, as she added, "And seeing if you found pants."

Shirou blushed furiously, his attempts at relaxation pretty much killed instantly in a single stroke by the crazy little ( _No, she only_ looks _little, that's how she tricks you_!) girl who had infiltrated his life and taken over in a brutal coup. "Look. Ilya. I know that you weren't raised in a _traditional_ environment, and I admit that maybe I led you on, or…"

She walked over, without a word, and threw her arms around his neck, hugging herself close to his chest. She was… she was very warm. And very soft. And Shirou wasn't sure what was going on, anymore, and his mind just kept screaming, _Nineteen, nineteen, this is a_ real thing _what is she_ doing…

"Thank you, Shirou," she said, very softly. "In all this craziness, I never really thanked you for everything you've done. I'm sure it was nothing special to you, but the time I've spent with you has been the only time since mama and papa left that I've felt _alive_. Thank you so much."

_... Dammit._

Without much else to do, he returned the hug, letting Ilya's mercurial mood swings pull him along like a current. What else was there to do? She was a storm in the shape of a girl, a typhoon of emotion that shifted direction without warning and buffeted him around like a stray leaf when it did. Ilya may have steamrolled her way into his life by sheer force of personality and dragged him along on whatever whim she happened to have, but admitting he wasn't happier when she was around would be a lie. She was crazy, maybe, but she was as much a breath of fresh air as she was a storm.

"You're welcome, Ilya," he said in the same soft tone, stroking her hair absently. She made a happy little satisfied noise at the motion, and he had the absurd image that he was petting a particularly antisocial cat who had decided to show him affection for reasons even it wasn't entirely certain of. "I know that things are weird, and… and maybe that we've gotten off on the wrong foot somewhere. But I _do_ care about you, and I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe. I promise."

Ilya giggled and nuzzled against him. "Dummy. I already knew that. You're just like papa, you know? He tried harder to hide it, but he was nice too. I think I was so sad when he left that I let myself forget that, and it all turned to hate. But he was the nicest man I ever met, until I met you. Thank you for reminding me of that."

He sighed, really not certain of what to do, but unwilling to interrupt her reverie. When Ilya was like this, quiet and gentle, it was hard to do anything to disturb her. He was still piecing her full story together, but he had learned by now that simple, gentle comfort was something she had not gotten a lot of in her life. Refusing it to her seemed unbearably cruel, no matter what kind of message he was afraid (or, he realized with slight distress, maybe a part of him wasn't so afraid of it?) of sending her with his actions.

Luckily for him, Ilya was still Ilya. Unclamping herself from his neck, she stood up, straightened out her skirt with the air of a young queen reclaiming her dignity, and allowed her personality to do a complete one-eighty-degree turn with absolutely zero warning as she said, out of the blue, " _But!_ We have business, and I actually came here to talk to you about something very important."

"You don't think this _is_ impor-"

"Oh, no, it is! You're very special to me, and I'm glad you think that's so important," Shirou felt his stomach fall with a combination of embarrassment at her ( _way too_ )frank affection, and fear at the sensation of creeping doom that ran down his spine at her words. She blushed slightly in oddly misplaced shyness as she added, "And, um, I was actually thinking that maybe after the War, if things… go okay, I could stay here? In Japan, I mean!"

Her tone indicated that 'here' did not mean Japan, it meant Shirou's house, and she was trying to sugarcoat it for his benefit.

Yes, he was most definitely screwed.

"Listen, Il-"

"But that's not what matters right now!" she squeaked, shaking her head as if to clear it and putting a serious expression on. "Shirou, you _need_ to stop distracting me. This really crucial and we _need_ to talk about it right now."

"I'm not distracting y-"

"See, that's what I mean! You and your words and your thinking, it's _rude_ when a lady is trying her very best to be businesslike."

Shirou, unable to come up with a reasonable counter to this statement (because, well, reason was in terribly short supply when Ilya was around), sighed in a combination of amusement and frustration, and just closed his mouth.

" _Thank_ you. Now, before Rin gets here and while Saber isn't around, we need to have a talk about the Makiri Grail. This is… this is very important, to you especially, and I don't think those two should know about it. At least not yet."

Shirou blinked in confusion. Of all the possible 'serious discussions' Ilya might have wanted to have, he somehow hadn't anticipated that she'd focus on one that was _actually serious_. But on the other hand, what she was saying…

"Ilya, Rin and Saber are our allies. We can't just keep important things from them," he said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I know that you're not used to-"

"Shirou," she said, and something in her tone made him freeze. She looked up at him, eyebrow arched in cold amusement, and the expression on her face actually made him feel, somehow, like she was looking _down_ at him rather than up.

 _She's older than me, and probably also smarter,_ he thought, pulling his hand back slowly. _I need to start remembering that._

"You're a good person, Shirou. You really are. I didn't think people could _be_ as selfless as you, and it's one of the things I love most about you," Ilya said, her tone soft but firm. "But it means you're not made for things like a war. You trust Rin and Saber, but you really shouldn't. Rin, despite herself, is still a magus. Still a Tohsaka. She is still, and always will be, a potential enemy. And Saber… I am sure she believes that she is trustworthy, but her mind and soul are broken, Shirou. You can't know for sure how she'll react. Especially not now."

"… Who are you?" Shirou asked, his voice barely audible in his own ears as he looked into Ilya's eyes and didn't see much of _Ilya_ in them. She tilted her head to one side, and smiled slightly, and he felt like he was standing before something… not exactly threatening, but it didn't have the same feeling of warmth that Ilya had. His mind was drawn back, unbidden, to the first night he had met her. _Strange, almost ethereal, saying things no girl should, and shimmering in the moonlight…_

Her smile was calm and small, not the exuberant grin of the girl he had come to know. "I'm Ilyasviel von Einzbern, of course. That's all I've ever been and all I'll ever be. It's just that there's a little more to her than you know, Shirou. And I'm sad to say that I'm not the only one who isn't quite what she has presented herself as.

"I'm truly sorry to say this. But how well do you know the Makiri children?"

* * *

 

Zouken lay in the worm chamber, his stolen flesh dispersed among the swarm, and thought.

It was difficult to do so, of course. He had no centralized brain in this form, the essence of his being split among thousands upon thousands of familiars. The form of the body and the form of the soul impacted each other in odd ways; when he took on a human body, it would always be the rotting and decrepit form of Zouken Makiri, because that was the shape of his soul and it impacted his flesh. But the reverse was also true; when he dispersed, became the swarm, his soul was equally impacted. His thoughts became fragmented, difficult to master.

He preferred it, though. The pain was lesser in this form, and besides, sometimes looking at things from a million different angles was more effective than looking at them from just one, even if every one of those myriad perspectives was nearly blind.

His plans were going entirely wrong, on several different levels. The Shadow, his greatest tool and most powerful ally, was no longer reliably under his control. Caster, his supposed 'partner,' was clearly plotting against him. Apparently her binding to the Shadow had also left her bound to the materials that projected it; whatever she might claim, she clearly considered herself to be its Servant and was disturbingly possessive. And of course, Lancer was a homicidal psychopath who would turn on any or all of the above at a moment's notice and for no obvious reason.

So, clearly, planning for the future had become vastly more difficult. The loss of Assassin had only made things worse; Zouken had familiars everywhere, scattered through the whole of Fuyuki, but none could compare to the quality of the lost Servant. And while Caster's… unique use for the remains had provided an increase to their war potential, it was not one he trusted fully. After all, she had shown with Lancer how well she was able to control her 'tools.'

_Our options are few. The temptation to move on Tohsaka is great indeed; the Rin girl and her Servants are the primary threat at this time. But she has taken in Sakura, and an all-out attack on her manor would run too great a risk of damaging the girl's body before it is prepared. I will need to lure the girl and her allies into an attack, force them out of their comfort zone and pressure them to attack my own forces. Some form of bait must be secured, then._

He pondered the best way to achieve that, and if he had possessed a mouth, he would have smiled.

There was a second objective, after all. The completion of the Grail, regardless of the vessel used, would destroy the mind of the one who was utilized. This meant that once the vessel was fully prepared, a secondary intelligence capable of interfacing with the ritual would be required to fully reach Akasha. For the full ritual to be performed, the gate to eternity, two Grails were the ideal path; one to 'become' the door, and one to 'open' it.

And the Emiya boy had taken the second one into his home, and grown fond of it. Even moreso than his father, all those years ago, Shirou Emiya allowed his humanity to cloud his judgment and ignored the _nature_ of the creature he aligned himself with. She was a tool and she _would_ be used, and nothing could stop that. The girl was no different than Sakura, in that way: the circumstances might have been different, but she was equally doomed. Therefore, what happened to her was in all ways meaningless, save for the ways her death could be turned to the advantage of others. In truth, the ideal way to stop Zouken's plans here and now would be to have the child absorb Saber, Archer, and Rider, then kill her while the absorbed energies deconstructed her body.

But Shirou Emiya and Rin Tohsaka were young. Idealistic. _Heroic,_ even.

And it was a fairly safe bet that people like that would put themselves at risk for a lost cause, as long as she seemed innocent enough.

 _Awaken_ , he thought, his consciousness roiling through the swarm and reverberating through Fuyuki, calling to Sakura.

She liked the Emiya home so very much, after all. A kindly grandfather like himself was all too happy to let her go back there for a visit.

* * *

 

Caster heard the summons, within the chaos that was her universe. She felt the tug of the Shadow as it awoke, ready to hunt. She winced.

She put on a bold face in front of Zouken Matou, but she was not terribly happy with her progress, of late. She had removed Berserker from the board, yes, but not in the way she had planned, and most certainly not in a way that had given her much in the way of benefit. The Servant had been taken from her almost as soon as she'd acquired him, for Hecate's sake! Instead of replacing Lancer, she had merely become forced to rely on him more than ever!

She had been foolish. She should have cast Berserker into the Shadow the instant she'd acquired him. But she had been _playing_. Drunk with power, she had chosen to toy with her foes rather than pursue her true goals, and she had gotten burned for it. And she knew why. Oh, yes, she knew why.

The _girl._

She had believed herself immune to the corrupting influence of the Black Grail and her bond to Sakura's subconscious. She too was a thing of darkness, surely being bathed in it could not alter her personality to any noticeable degree. But clearly, her mind was compromised in some way, because after a few days of mental chats and one night of… of _rutting_ , she was actually growing _attached_ to Sakura! She had been hesitating when she should have struck ruthlessly, playing when she should have been deadly serious, thinking more of keeping the girl for herself than her own vengeance! Her actions were those of a hormonal teenager, reveling in every little emotion and putting her whims before her long-term goals. And it was _ruining her._

Certainly she had never _disliked_ Sakura, but she was _supposed_ to be merely a tool; the weapon by which Souchirou would be avenged. The delicious irony of Zouken's own magical masterpiece being turned against him had lent a vicious edge to the plan that Caster had delighted in. She wasn't supposed to start feeling a _bond_ with her. It was understandable, she supposed; their shared history of abuse, perhaps, causing a bond of empathy. Medea certainly couldn't help but feel for any victimized woman, after the way both gods and men had used her throughout her life. If anything, Sakura had it even worse! Gods knew that Zouken made Jason look almost pleasant. Or perhaps it was simply the darkness corroding Caster's common sense and drawing her tighter to the girl through the Master-Servant bond, making her care despite herself.

Or maybe, she thought with a great deal of humiliation spiced with a small amount of self-loathing, she was just an absolute _buffoon_ for someone who treated her well without expecting anything in return.

Gods above, she was _pathetic_. Even now, her dream-sending being cut off by some external force had her jumping at shadows. With an effort of will, she focused herself on the true task at hand. Sakura was alive and physically healthy enough to maintain some of her power, and that was what truly mattered. Further, she had not spent the day in total uselessness… the corpse doll of Assassin had been every bit the work of art she had imagined it to be, and she had come up with a _very_ interesting use indeed.

Her workshop was fully set up, and within it she could create miracles to rival the gods. It had taken the better part of a hundred souls and most of a day spent literally on her hands and knees engraving the circles, but the result had been everything she'd hoped for and more; a creation even _she_ had not been totally sure she could forge, even with the nigh-infinite power at her disposal. It was time, perhaps, to give it a test run.

The darkness shifted and parted, and Caster found herself standing on one of the many unremarkable Fuyuki streets… and in her senses, the presence of a Servant burned, like a blazing light against the darkness of her consciousness. Even better… it was a very _familiar_ presence.

She smiled, slightly. Well, if nothing else, the chance to observe in person the impact of the dark seed planted in Saber's soul _would_ be an interesting distraction.

Of course, there were still rules. This was not an isolated temple or an empty park; there were witnesses. A battle of the Holy Grail War would cause a massive panic, expose activities that Caster wished to keep secret. The last thing she wanted was for a wave of Mage Association killers to investigate Fuyuki and harm Sakura-

_Damage the weapon. Stay detached._

_-_ while she lay dormant in the Black Grail, unable to help. She would need to make sure that nothing and nobody was able to leave the area with tales of horror to spread. Luckily, she also had ways to manage that.

Not focused enough? Not _ruthless_ enough? Well, it was time to remind her enemies and allies alike that Medea knew _damn well_ how to be very ruthless indeed.

She raised her hand, and the shadows slipped into the ground, vanishing like water into sand, unseen and undetectable.

But not disappearing. Growing.

* * *

 

Rin knocked on the door of the Emiya household, Rider invisibly at her heels and Archer in the street outside serving as a lookout. "Are you ready?" she asked softly.

" _I'm not sure why you brought me, Rin. I was under the impression Archer was the Servant these people associated with you."_

"He's a better lookout than anyone. Besides, I don't want to keep myself too predictable these days. I'm technically on their side, but I don't trust that little monster completely," Rin murmured. "She might not be the magus I expected, but she's still an Einzbern. The only difference between them and the Matou, when you get down to it, is that they have better taste in housing."

" _I'm sure you didn't just insult Sakura,_ " Rider whispered, her tone one of quiet warning.

"Sakura is a Tohsaka, not a Matou," Rin snapped in reply, her tone raising a little higher than she intended. "Now be quiet, I don't want them to hear us talking and-"

The door opened, shocking Rin out of her semi-silent conversation, and Shirou stood there. And Rin immediately knew that something was very, very wrong. Shirou looked… serious.

It wasn't that he was incapable of doing so, mind you. It was just that he was sort of a doofus and (Rin took a little bit of joy in this detail) he kind of had a horrible time dealing with girls. Traditionally speaking, being in the same room as her was enough to throw him horribly off his game, and she preferred it that way. Add in Saber and (ugh) Ilya, and the boy was basically a wreck. So the fact that he looked outright severe despite the fact all three were in close proximity was sign of something bad.

Particularly since he was looking at her not with the usual mixture of fear and annoyance, but like he thought she might slash his throat at any given moment. It was not an unhealthy attitude for a magus and combatant in a Grail War, but it still felt… oddly hurtful.

"Emiya. Whose funeral did I miss?" Rin asked lightly, trying to inject a little levity into the situation out of sheer instinct, the notion of Shirou in such a dark mood oddly disturbing to her. He was supposed to be the _nice_ one, dammit.

"Tohsaka," he said, inclining his head. "I'm sorry. I'm a little bit… something came up, and I have some things to think about. That's all."

 _It was her. It had to have been her_ , Rin thought, her blood running cold. The little Einzbern brat had done something, told him something she had kept out of her little speech to the group earlier. Shirou knew something that Rin didn't, and whatever it was it didn't fill his soul with trust toward the Tohsaka magus. _And she did it on purpose, I'm sure of it. She's been working against me from the start. Now when I desperately need to keep this nitwit alive, she's trying to put a wedge between us._

Should she just tell him about her alliance with Rider and Sakura? He might react badly to the notion that his little archery buddy was also a Master and had been deceiving him for years, but he could hardly disapprove of the notion that her goal in the War was to protect him, nor that Rin was signed on to the same mission statement. And they _were_ allies now; Shirou was nothing if not noble. To a fault, really. He wouldn't betray an alliance.

Unless an unnervingly pragmatic little witch with a great deal of influence over him steered him toward a goal that was not in Rin's best interests, perhaps?

 _Ugh. I'm starting to channel Archer. I don't even know for sure that little brat is actually out to get me, I'm just assuming it because I don't like her,_ Rin thought in some disgust.

It was time to stop thinking like a magus. People doing that was half the reason the world was on the verge of being eaten by a demon-god. She was a magus, yes, but she was also the guardian of Fuyuki city. Whatever she had used to believe, whatever she was _raised_ to believe, the important thing to do now was to stop the Shadow and end the Holy Grail War while there was still something left of her city to guard. And that meant, despite herself, being _honest_ with people.

"Rider," she said softly, "show yourself."

Shirou blinked, his oddly somber expression dissolving in confusion as he said, "Wait, whAAAT?!"

Rin tried not to laugh as Rider's sudden appearance caused the young man to squawk in dismay, jump backwards in shock, and hit his head on the wall.

Yes, she really tried.

"Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!" she giggled helplessly, even as the fatigue of Rider taking physical form washed over her. "O-oh! Oh, the look on your face! E-Emiya, you are so… such a… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Shirou rubbed his head, sighing in annoyance. "I… have no idea what's going on. But I suspect you did this on purpose."

"Yes, but not for the reason you think," Rin said, rubbing a tear of mirth from her eye. "Thanks for that, by the way, I needed a good laugh."

"You're welcome?" Shirou muttered. "And… um, Rider. Hello. Thank you for the… the thing. At the temple."

"It was my Master's command, Shirou Emiya. There is nothing to thank me for," the Servant said solemnly.

"You saved my life, so... whatever your reasons, I still feel like I owe you one. But I do kind of wonder why you _did_ do it? I thought Shinji was turning against his grandfather, at first; they don't seem to really get along, and Shinji's not… _nice._ But I'm guessing now that something else is going on?"

"Rin has taken control of me from my true Master. It is a temporary contract, but one I am bound to honor," Rider explained patiently. "She is the one who ordered me to protect you from Caster and Zouken, not Shinji."

"I suppose that makes sense…?" Shirou said, his tone suggesting that he wasn't totally sure it _did_ , but he was a little lost and attempting to get himself back on the ball. "But how did she steal you from Shinji?"

"I. Erm. Didn't," Rin said, taking a deep breath.

"Technically, Rin, you did."

"… Oh, right! I threw him down the stairs," Rin said. "It's funny how easy it is to forget about hurting Shinji, isn't it?"

"I assure you, if I am ever able to inflict bodily harm upon Shinji, _everyone_ will remember it," Rider said dryly.

"But what I mean, Emiya," Rin said, getting herself back on course (and reminding herself to get Rider a cookie for good behavior later), "is that Shinji Matou is not the one that originally summoned Rider, and doesn't have her true contract. He got temporary control of her through a ritual that turns a Command Seal into a portable tome that anyone can use as a channel into a Servant's mana."

Shirou thought back to that first battle, when Saber had faced Rider. God, it felt like years ago, so much had happened, but… yes. Yes, Shinji had kept one hand in his pocket, as if afraid to let go of some small object he'd been carrying. It could have been a small book.

"Okay, that _does_ make more sense," Shirou said, nodding a few times as he pieced it together in his mind. "Zouken Matou summoned a Servant and gave it to Shinji, to add an extra Servant to the Matou's forces, right? Saber said he has Assassin, too, so he must have summoned between those two and the Shadow, he would have enough power to take down almost anyone, right? But Assassin died last night, and Rider is on our side now, so…"

Rin held up a hand. "You're jumping to conclusions, Emiya."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that a single Master can only summon a single Servant. One person can make a _pact_ with more than one Servant, but the summoning ritual is administrated by the Grail itself. It chooses seven Masters, not six. Zouken couldn't do the summoning ritual twice, the Grail wouldn't give him a second Servant."

Shirou slowly turned toward Rin, and she saw the moment that his eyes filled with some combination of dread and recognition… but not, she noted surprise. "But," he said softly, "there's another Matou, isn't there?"

Rin took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Emiya."

Shirou leaned against the wall, rubbing his temples. "Don't be. It's just… I was hoping that she was wrong, but it's all adding up…"

Rin blinked, a little bit of dread entering her own tone. "Wait, what did you just say? Who did you hope was wrong?"

Shirou chuckled bitterly. "Someone I never thought would agree with you. Come on, we need to plan, don't we?"

Rin followed him into the kitchen, vaguely wondering if she would have been safer standing outside in the dead of night with Archer. For what was supposed to be an alliance, she had the weirdest feeling she was walking into someone's trap.

* * *

Rin Tohsaka was not walking into someone's trap. She, her Servant, and her absurd allies were already in the center of it.

Caster knelt down, and twisted her hand, the pavement of the road cracking beneath her feet. Two dark forms appeared behind her, and she did not turn to face them, merely continuing to rifle through her robes, before palming a small, sharp object. "Lancer," she said. "I have come to accept that I have little to no actual control over what you do when we are not both within our Master's Grail. Therefore, you may go off and do whatever you like. Saber and Rider are nearby, and Archer has likely already seen us. I'm sure that any of the above would amuse you."

"… You know, you're rather beautiful when you give up all hope," Lancer said. "Shame I don't have much care for pleasures of the flesh since my darkening, or I might take some time to put a smile on that face again, old witch."

"Try not to come back alive," she muttered as Lancer charged into the night, a shark's smile on his face and his eyes gleaming gold in the darkness. Then, turning back over her shoulder, she continued, "You… are aware of what I need of you?"

The second figure, silent and blacker than pitch beneath a moonless sky, inclined its head once, and vanished.

She smirked. "Well, at least this one is quiet. If nothing else, I seem to have produced something more palatable than Lancer."

She held her open palm over the blackness writing beneath the street, the Shadow's essence stretched out paper-thin over nearly three square kilometers, blanketing the entire neighborhood silently and undetected beneath the earth. It was hungry, and writhing, but it would stay hidden until something happened to drive it into a frenzy. And she had some time to deal with that.

It was time, then, for an experiment a little less delicate than those she had performed on the corpse of assassin, and with potential for far more immediate and _dramatic_ results.

She turned her palm over, and dropped the object she had been holding into the darkness. The tooth of a dragon, squeezed into her hand until it drew blood.

The bloody fang vanished into the darkness, and after a few long, silent minutes the ground began to quake violently, with what a casual observer might believe to be hundreds of pairs of inhumanly strong hands attempting to pummel their way through the asphalt.

Dramatic results _indeed._


End file.
